Hiccup Haddock and the Prisoner of Azkaban
by Optimus524
Summary: Hiccup Haddock is a Viking! Along with Astrid and Ragnar, his best friends, Hiccup is in his third year at Berk Dragon Academy for Vikings and Valkyries. There's now a mass murderer on the loose, and the sinister prison guards of Azkaban have been called to guard the academy.
1. Terrible Terror Post

**Hello everyone, I just like to say that I don't know when I'll update the next chapter. But I just want to say have a very Merry Christmas.**

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Hiccup Haddock was a highly unusual boy in many ways. For one thing, he hated the summer holidays more than any other time of year. For another, he really wanted to do his homework, but was forced to do it in secret, in the dead of night. And he also happened to be a Viking.

Now he wasn't a Viking in the common sense, in his world the term Viking means magical warrior or Valkyrie which was the female equivalent. This meant he could do things like produce fire in the palm of his hand and can commune with dragons. That's right _dragons_, they excite, but to those that don't believe in magic they look like birds or something.

Anyway, it was nearly midnight, and he was lying on his front in bed, the blankets drawn right over his head like a tent, a torch in one hand and a large leather-bound book (_A History of Magic,_ by Bagshot the Historian) propped open against the pillow. Hiccup moved the tip of his eagle-feather quill down the page, frowning as he looked for something that would help him write his essay, "Witch Burning in the Fourteenth Century Was Completely Pointless discuss".

The quill paused at the top of a likely-looking paragraph. Hiccup moved his torch closer to the book and read:

_Non-magic people (more commonly known as Muggles) were particularly afraid of magic in medieval times, but not very good at recognising often calling Viking and Valkyries witches. On the rare occasion that they did catch a real Viking or Valkyrie, burning had no effect whatsoever. The Viking or Valkyrie would perform a basic bit of Fire Magic and then pretend to shriek with pain while enjoying a gentle, tickling sensation. Indeed, Wendelin the Weird enjoyed being burnt so much that she allowed herself to be caught no fewer than forty-seven times in various disguises._

Hiccup put his quill between his teeth and reached underneath his pillow for his ink bottle and a roll of parchment. Slowly and very carefully he unscrewed the ink bottle, dipped his quill into it and began to write, pausing every now and then to listen, because if and of the Dalssons heard the scratching of his quill on their way to the bathroom, he'd probably find himself locked in the cupboard under the stairs for the rest of the summer.

The Dalssons family of number four, Private Drive, was the reason that Hiccup never enjoyed his summer holidays. Uncle Magnus, Aunt Runa and their son Olaf, were Hiccup's only living relatives. They were Muggles, and they had a very medieval attitude towards magic. Hiccup's dead parents, who had been a Viking and Valkyrie themselves, were never mentioned under the Dalssons' roof. For years, Aunt Runa and Uncle Magnus had hoped that if they kept Hiccup as downtrodden as possible, they would be able to squash the magic out of him. To their fury, due to his stubbornness and curiosity, which he inherited from his parents, they had been unsuccessful, and now lived in terror of anyone finding out that Hiccup spent most of the last two years at Berk Dragon Academy for Vikings and Valkyries. The most the Dalssons could do these days was to lock away Hiccup's spellbooks, crystal eye, sword, cauldron and saddle at the start of the summer holidays, and forbid him to talk to the neighbours.

This separation from his spellbooks had been a real problem for Hiccup, because his teachers at Berk had given him a lot of holiday work. One of the essays, a particularly nasty one about Shrinking Potions, was for Hiccup's least favourite teacher, Grabbit the Grim, who would delighted to have an excuse to give Hiccup detention for a month. Hiccup had therefore seized his chance in the first week of the holidays. Whilst Uncle Magnus, Aunt Runa and Olaf had gone out into the front garden to admire Uncle Magnus' new company car (in very loud voices, so that the rest of the street would notice it too), Hiccup had crept downstairs, picked the lock, which he leant from some very helpful and mischiefs friends, grabbed some of his books and hidden them in his bedroom. As long as he didn't leave spots of ink on the sheets, the Dalssons need never known that he was studying magic by night.

Hiccup was keen to avoid trouble with his aunt and uncle at the moment, as they were already in a bad mood with him, all because he'd received a telephone call from a fellow magical warrior week into the school holidays.

Astrid Hofferson, who was Hiccup's crush, came from a whole family of Vikings, in fact it was her twin brother that taught him how to pick locks. This meant she knew a lot of things Hiccup didn't. However, she knew very little about Muggle technology and that included using a telephone. Most unluckily, it had been Uncle Magnus who had answered the call.

"Magnus Dalsson speaking."

Hiccup, who happened to be in the room at the time, froze as he heard Astrid's voice answer.

"HELLO? HELLO? CAN YOU HEAR ME? I—WANT—TO—TALK—TO—HICCUP—HADDOCK!"

If there was one thing Hiccup could say about Astrid, she certainly knew how to make herself heard. She spoke so loudly that Uncle Magnus jumped and held the receiver a foot away from his ear, staring at it with an expression of mingled fury and alarm.

Hiccup looked at Olaf, who was sitting on the sofa playing on his PS3. He stopped and stared at Hiccup with a look of bewilderment. Hiccup wasn't sure if he was stunned by the fact that someone had phoned up to talk to him or the fact that it was girl, with extremely loud vocal cords, wanting to talk to him.

"WHO IS THIS?" Uncle Magnus roared in the direction of the mouthpiece. "WHO ARE YOU?"

"ASTRID—HOFFERSON!" Astrid bellowed back, as though She and Uncle Magnus were speaking from opposite ends of a football pitch. "I'M—A—FRIEND—OF—HICCUP'S—FROM—BERK—"

Uncle Magnus's small eyes swivelled around to Hiccup, who was rooted to the spot.

"THERE IS NO HICCUP HADDOCK HERE!" he roared, now holding the receiver at arm's length, as though frightened it might explode. "I KNOW NOTHING ABOUT BERK YOUR TALKING ABOUT! NEVER CONTACT ME AGAIN! DON'T YOU COME NEAR MY FAMILY!"

And he threw the receiver back onto the telephone as if dropping a poisonous spider.

The row that had followed had been one of the worst ever.

"HOW DARE YOU GIVE THIS NUMBER TO PEOPLE LIKE—PEOPLE LIKE _YOU_!" Uncle Magnus had roared, spraying Hiccup with spit.

Astrid obviously realised that he'd got Hiccup into trouble, because she hadn't called again. Hiccup's best friend, Ragnar Keatson, hadn't been in touch either. Hiccup suspected that Astrid had warned Ragnar not to call, which was a pity, because Ragnar, the cleverest Viking in Hiccup's year, had a Muggle mother, knew perfectly well how to use a telephone, and would probably have had enough sense not to say that he went to Berk.

It was times like this that Hiccup wished he had a mobile, though he knew that was impossibility since the Dalssons have never giving him anything decent. They ignored his birthday and got him nothing for Snoggletog, but they spoil Olaf rotten.

So all in all Hiccup had had no word from any of his Viking friends for five long weeks, and this summer was turning out to be almost as bad as the last one and that was when they locked him in his own room like a prisoner of war. There was just one, very small improvement: after swearing that he wouldn't use him to send letters to any of his friends, Hiccup had been allowed to let his Terrible Terror, Sharpshot, out at night. A Terrible Terror was a small dragon that Viking and Valkyries use to send messages to one another. Uncle Magnus had given in because of the racket Sharpshot made if he was locked in his cage all the time.

Hiccup finished writing about Wendelin the Weird and paused to listen again. The silence in the dark house was broken only by the distant, grunting snores of his enormous cousin, Olaf. It must be very late. Hiccup's eyes were itching with tiredness. Perhaps he'd finish this essay tomorrow night…

He replaced the top of the ink bottle, pulled an old pillowcase from under his bed, put the torch, _A History of Magic_, his essay, quill and ink inside it, got out of bed and hid the lot under a loose floorboard under his bed. Then he stood up, stretched, and checked the time on the luminous alarm clock on his bedside table.

It was one o'clock in the morning. Hiccup's stomach gave a funny jolt. He had been thirteen years old, without realising it, for a whole hour.

Yet another unusual thing about Hiccup was how little he looked forward to his birthdays. He had never received a birthday card in his life. He doubt that the Dalssons would remember this one as well.

Hiccup walked across the dark room, past Sharpshot's large, empty cage, to open the window. He leaned on the sill, the cool night air pleasant on his face after a long time under the blankets. Sharpshot had been absent for two nights now. Hiccup wasn't worried about him—he'd been gone this long before—but he hoped he'd be back soon. He was the only living creature in this house who didn't flinch at the sight of him.

Hiccup, though still rather small and skinny for his age, had grown a few inches over the last year. His auburn was just as it always had been: shaggy, whatever he did to it. His eyes were emerald green, his face was covered with freckles, and on his forehead, clearly visible through his hair, was a thin scar, shaped like a bolt of lightning.

Of all the unusual things about Hiccup, this scar was the most extraordinary of all. it was not, as the Dalssons had pretended for ten years, a souvenir of the car crash that had killed Hiccup's parents, because Stoick the Vast and Valka the Gentle had not died in a car crash. They had been murdered, murdered by the most feared Viking tyrant for a hundred years, Drago Bludvist. Hiccup had escaped from the same attack with nothing more than a scar on his forehead, upon its originator. Barely alive, Drago had fled…

But Hiccup had come face to face with him since at Berk. Remembering their last meeting as he stood at the dark window, Hiccup had to admit he was lucky even to have reached his thirteenth birthday. Also Drago wasn't at his full strength, Thor only knows what would happen if he returned to full strength.

He scanned the starry sky for a sign of Sharpshot, perhaps soaring back to him with a large dead fish in his mouth, expecting praise. Grazing absently over the rooftops, it was a few seconds before Hiccup realised what he was seeing.

Silhouetted against the golden moon, and growing larger every moment, was a large, strangely lop-sided creature, and it was flapping in Hiccup's direction. He stood quite still, watching it sink lower and lower. For a split second, he hesitated, his hand on the window-latch, wondering whether to slam it shut, but then the bizarre creature soared over one of the streetlamps of Privet Drive, and Hiccup, realised what it was, leapt aside.

Through the window soared three Terrible Terrors, two of them holding up the third, which appeared to be unconscious. They landed with a soft _flump_ on Hiccup's bed, and the middle Terrible Terror, which was large with grey scales, keeled right over and lay motionless. There was a large package tied to its legs.

Hiccup recognised the unconscious Terrible Terror at once—his name was Errol, and he belonged to the Hofferson family. Hiccup dashed to the bed at once, untied the cords around Errol's leg, took off the parchment and then carried Errol to Sharpshot's cage. Errol opened one bleary eye, gave a feeble shriek of thanks, and began to gulp some water.

Hiccup turned back to the remaining Terrible Terrors. One of them, the green and brown scaled, was his own Sharpshot. He, too, was carrying a parcel, and looked extremely pleased with himself. He gave Hiccup an affectionate nuzzle as he removed his burden, then flew across the room to join Errol.

Hiccup didn't recognise the third Terrible Terror, a handsome brown scaled one, but he knew at once where it had come from, because in addition to a third parcel, it was carrying a letter bearing the Berk crest. When Hiccup relived this Terrible Terror of its post it licked its own eyeball with its forked tongue importantly, stretched its wings and took off through the window into the night.

Hiccup sat down on his bed, grabbed Errol's package, ripped off the brown paper and discovered a present wrapped in gold, and his first ever birthday card. Fingers trembling slightly, he opened the envelope. Two pieces of paper fell out—a letter and a newspaper cutting.

The cutting had clearly come out of the Viking newspaper, the _Daily Prophet_, because the people in the black and white picture were moving. Hiccup picked up the cutting, smoothed it out and read:

_MINISTRY OF MAGIC EMPLOYEE SCOOPS GRAND PRIZE_

_Arnbjorn the Tinker, Head of the Misuse of Muggle Artefacts Office at the Ministry of Magic, has won the annual _Daily Prophet_ Grand Prise Galleon Draw._

_A delighted Arnbjorn told the _Daily Prophet, _"We will be spending the gold on a summer holiday in Barbaric Archipelago, where out eldest son, Bjorn the Bold works as a curse breaker for Gringotts Viking Bank."_

_The Hofferson family will be spending a month in the Barbaric Archipelago, returning for the start of the new school year at Berk, which five of the Hofferson children currently attend._

Hiccup scanned the moving photograph, and a grin spread across his face as he saw all nine of the Hoffersons waving furiously at him standing in front of a large mountain, which he guessed was the famous mountain on his ancestor's homeland the original Berk. Plump little Mrs Hofferson, tall, balding Mr Hofferson, six sons and one daughter, all though the black and white picture didn't show it) with golden blond hair. Right in the middle of the picture was Astrid, a divine beaut, with her pet rat Scabbers on her shoulder and her arm around his little brother, Ripper.

Hiccup couldn't think of anyone who deserved to win a large pile of gold more than the Hoffersons, who were very nice and extremely poor. He picked up Astrid's letter and unfolded it.

_Dear Hiccup,_

_Happy birthday!_

_Look, I'm sorry about the telephone call. I hope the Muggles didn't give you a hard time and if they did I'll come over and tell them what I _think_ of them. I asked Dad, and he reckons I shouldn't have shouted._

_It's brilliant here in the_ _Barbaric Archipelago. Bjorn's taken us round all the islands and you wouldn't believe the weapons our ancestor's used. Mum wouldn't let Ripper visit Outcast Island, where the vilest Vikings and Valkyries were banished. It was nothing more than a waste land full of dragon bones._

_I couldn't believe it when Dad won the _Daily Prophet _Draw. Seven hundered galleons! Most of its gone on this holiday, but they're going to buy me a new crystal eye for next year._

Hiccup remembered all too well the occasion then Astrid's crystal eye had cracked. It happened when the car the two of them had been flying to Berk had crashed into a tree in the academy grounds.

_We'll be back about a week before term starts and we'll be going up to London to get my crystal eye and our new books. Any chance of meeting you there?_

_Don't let the Muggles get you down!_

_Try and come to London,_

_Astrid_

_PS: Sven's Head Boy. He got the letter last week._

Hiccup glanced at the photograph. Sven, who was in his seventh and final year at Berk, was looking particularly smug. He had pinned his Head Boy badge to his fur cap that was around his buff shoulders.

Hiccup now turned to his present and unwrapped it. Inside was what looked like miniature glass spinning top. There was another note from Astrid beneath it.

_Hiccup—this is a Pocket Sneakoscope. If there's someone untrustworthy around, it's supposed to light up and spin. Bjorn says it's rubbish sold for Viking tourists and isn't reliable, because it kept lighting up at dinner last night. But he didn't realise Double and Trouble had put beetles in his soup._

_Love from_

_Astrid_

Hiccup put the Pocket Sneakoscope on his bedside table, where it stood quite still, balanced on its point, reflecting the luminous hands of his clock. He looked at it happily for a few seconds, then picked up the parcel Sharpshot had brought.

Inside this, too, there was a wrapped present, a card and a letter, this time from Ragnar.

_Dear Ragnar_

_Astrid wrote to me and told me about her phone call to your Uncle Magnus. I do hope you're all right, and when I see her next I'll try and explain the proper way to use a telephone._

_Anyway, I'm on holiday in France at the moment and I didn't know how I was going to send this to you—it would take a lot of explaining if they'd opened it at Customs.—but Sharpshot turned up out of blue! I think he wanted to make sure you got something for your birthday for once. I bought your present by Terrible Terror—order; there was an advertisement in the _Daily Prophet(_I've been getting it delivered, it's so good to keep up with what's going on in the Viking world_). _Did you see that picture of Astrid and her family a week ago? No doubt she's learning about our ancestors' weapons and fighting techniques, I'm really jealous—I've always wanted to see the original Berk._

_There's some interesting local history of Viking kind here, too. I've learnt so much and if I'd had to put all this stuff into my essay it'll be two rolls pf parchment more._

_Astrid says she's going to be in London in the last week of the holidays. Can you make it? Will your aunt and uncle let you come? I really hope you can. If not, I'll see you on the Berk Express on September the first! Unless you and Astrid decided to take a flying car again!_

_Ragnar_

_P.S. Astrid says Sven's Head Boy. I'll bet Sven's really pleased. Astrid doesn't seem too happy about it._

Hiccup laughed again as he put Ragnar's letter aside and picked up his present. It was very heavy. Knowing Ragnar, he was sure it would be a large book full of very difficult spells—but it wasn't. His heart gave a huge bound as he ripped back the paper and saw a sleek black leather case with silver words stamped across it: _Saddle Servicing Kit._

"Wow, Rag!" Hiccup whispered, unzipping the case to look inside.

There was a large jar of Fleetwood's High-Finish Polish, a small silver brush, a tiny brass compass to clip onto your saddle for long journeys, and a _Handbook of Do-it-Yourself Saddlecare._

Apart from his friends, the thing that Hiccup missed most about Berk was Dragon Racing, the most popular sport in the magical world—highly dangerous, very exciting and played on the back of dragons. He missed riding on his dragon, Toothless, around Berk. Toothless is the most rarest kind of dragon around in the entire world, a Night Fury, he was super-fast even without a saddle to boost his speed. In fact he was the youngest Racer in a century to be picked for one of the Berks house teams.

Hiccup put the leather case aside and picked up his last parcel. He recognised the untidy scrawl on the brown paper at once: this was from Gobber the Belch, the Forge Master of Berk. He tore off the top layer of paper and glimpsed something red and leathery, but when he picked it up it began to burn his hand making him drop it to the floor.

After he waved his hand to cool it down, he looked down at the book and on its handsome red cover, emblazoned with the golden title, _The Art of the Master Forger_.

"Oh, great," Hiccup muttered.

He forgot that this year he'd be taking Forge classed with Gobber. Now Gobber was a great guy, he was one of his dad's best friends when he was at Berk, but he had a habit of creating dangers robot like creatures like a giant three head dog or deadly Speed Stinger.

Both Sharpshot and Errol watched interestedly as Hiccup pulled on his dragon skin glovers and picked the book up. Normal heat doesn't bother him, but with him not able to use magic he wasn't able to protect himself. He then placed it under his bed until he could decide what to do with it later and then picked up Gobber's card.

_Dear Hiccup,_

_Happy Birthday!_

_Think you might find this useful for your lessons with me next year. We'll have a great time I can tell you._

_Hope the Muggles are treating you right._

_All the best,_

_Gobber_

He placed Gobber's card next to Astrid and Ragnar's, shaking his head with disbelief that Gobber thought a red hot book would be useful for his lessons. However, he smiled broadly as he looked at the cards his friends had sent him. Now there was only the letter from Berk left.

Noticing that it was rather thicker than usual, Hiccup slit open the envelope, pulled out the first page of parchment within and read:

_Dear Mr Haddock,_

_Please note that the new school year will begin on September the first. The Berk Express will leave from King's Cross Station, platform nine and three-quarters, at eleven o'clock._

_Third-years are permitted to visit the village of Berksmeade at certain weekends. Please give enclosed permission form to your parent or guardian to sign._

_A list of books for next year is enclosed._

_Yours sincerely_

_Phlegma the Fierce_

_Deputy Headmistress_

Hiccup pulled out the Berksmeade permission form and looked at it, no longer grinning. It would be wonderful to visit Berksmeade at weekends; he knew it was an entirely Viking village, and he never set foot there. But how on Midgard was he going to persuade Uncle Magnus or Aunt Runa to sign the form?

He looked over at the alarm clock. It was now two o'clock in the morning.

Deciding that he'd worry about Berksmeade form when he woke up, Hiccup got back into bed and reached up to cross off another say on the chart he'd made himself, counting down the days left until his return to Berk. Then he faced his three birthday cards.

Extremely unusual though he was, at that moment Hiccup felt just like everyone else: glad, for the first time in his life, that it was his birthday.


	2. Aunt Helga's Big Mistake

Hiccup went down to breakfast next morning to find the three Dalssons already sitting around the kitchen table. They were watching a brand-new television, a welcome-home-for-the-summer present for Olaf, who had been complaining loudly about the long walk between the fridge and the television in the living room. Olaf had spent most of the summer in the kitchen, his piggy little eyes fixed on the screen and his five chins wobbling as he ate continually.

Hiccup sat down between Olaf and Uncle Magnus, a large, beefy man with very little neck and a lot of moustache. Far from wishing Hiccup a happy birthday, none of the Dalssons gave any sign that they had noticed Hiccup entre the room, but Hiccup was far too used to this to care. He helped himself to a piece of toast and then looked up at the newsreader on the television, who was halfway through a report on an escaped convict.

"…the public is warned that Alvin Blackson is armed and extremely dangerous. A special hotline has been set up, and any sighting of Blackson should be reported immediately."

"No need to tell us _he's_ no good," snorted Uncle Magnus, staring over the top of his newspaper at the prisoner. "Look at the state of him, the filthy layabout! Look at his hair!"

He shot a nasty look sideways at Hiccup, whose shaggy hair had always been a source of great annoyance to Uncle Magnus. Compared to the man on the television, however, whose gaunt face surrounded by a matted, elbow-length tangle, Hiccup felt very groomed indeed.

The newsreader reappeared.

"The Ministry of Agriculture and Fisheries will announce today—"

"Hang on!" barked Uncle Magnus, staring furiously at the newsreader. "You didn't tell us where that maniac's escape from! What use is that? Lunatic could be coming up the street right now!"

Aunt Runa, who was bony and horse-faced, whipped around and peered intently out of the kitchen window. Hiccup knew Aunt Runa would simply love to be the one to call the hotline number her life spying on her boring, law-abiding neighbours.

"When will they _learn_," said Uncle Magnus, pounding the table with his large purple fist, "that hanging's the only way to deal with these people?"

"Very true," said Aunt Runa, who was still squinting into next door's runner-beans.

Uncle Maguns drained his teacup, glanced at his watch and added, "I'd better be off in a minute, Rune, Helga's train gets in at ten."

Hiccup, whose thoughts had been upstairs with the Saddle Servicing Kit, was brought back to Midgard with an unpleasant bump.

"Aunt Helga?" he blurted out. "Sh-_she's_ not coming here, is she?"

Aunt Helga was Uncle Magnus's sister. Even though she was not a blood relative of Hiccup's (whose mother had been Aunt Runa's sister), he had been forced to call her "Aunt" all his life. Aunt Helga lived in the country, in a house with a large garden, where she bred bulldogs. She didn't often stay in Privet Drive, because she couldn't bear to leave her precious dogs, thank Thor, but each of her visits stood out horribly vividly in Hiccup's mind.

At Olaf's fifth birthday party, Aunt Helga had whacked Hiccup around the shins with her walking stick to stop him beating Olaf at musical statues. A few years later, she had turned up at Snoggletog with a computerised robot for Olaf and a box of dog biscuits for Hiccup. On her last visit, the year before Hiccup had started at Berk. Hiccup had accidentally trodden on the paw of her favourite dog. Crusher had chanced Hiccup out into the garden and up a tree, and Aunt Helga had refused to call him off until past midnight. The memory of this incident still brought tears of laughter to Olaf's eyes.

"Helga'll be here for a week," Uncle Magnus snarled, "and while we're on the subject," he pointed a fat threateningly at Hiccup, "we need to get a few things straight before I go and collect her."

Olaf smirked and withdrew his gaze from the television. Watching Hiccup being bullied by Uncle Magnus was Olaf's favourite form of entrainment.

"Firstly," growled Uncle Magnus, "you'll keep a civil tongue in your head when you're talking to Helga."

"All right," said Hiccup bitterly, "if she does when she's talking to me."

"Secondly," said Uncle Magnus, acting as though he had not heard Hiccup's rely, "as Helga doesn't know anything about your _abnormality,_ I don't want any—any _funny_ stuff while she's here. You behave yourself, got me?"

"I will if she does," said Hiccup through gritted teeth.

"And thirdly," said Uncle Magnus, his mean little eyes now slits in his great purple face, "we've told Helga you attend Brutus's Secure Centre for Incurably Criminal Boys."

"_What?_" Hiccup yelled.

"And you'll be sticking to that story, boy, or there'll be trouble," spat Uncle Magnus.

Hiccup sat there, white-faced and furious, staring at Uncle Magnus, hardly able to believe it. Aunt Helga coming for a weeklong visit—it was the worst birthday present the Dalssons had ever given him, including that pair of Uncle Magnus' old socks.

"Great, happy birthday to me," Hiccup muttered under his breath.

"Well, Runa," said Uncle Magnus, getting heavily to his feet, "I'll be off to the station, then. Want to come along for the ride, Olafers?"

"No," said Olaf, whose attention had returned to the television now that Uncle Magnus had finished threatening Hiccup.

"Olafers' got to make himself smart for his auntie," said Aunt Runa, smoothing Olaf's thick blond hair. "Mummy's bought him a lovely new bow-tie."

Uncle Magnus clapped Olaf on his porky shoulder.

"See you in a bit, then," he said, and he left the kitchen.

Hiccup, who had been sitting in a kind of horrified trance, had a sudden idea. Abandoning his toast, he got quickly to his feet and followed Uncle Magnus to the front door.

Uncle Magnus was pulling on his car coat.

"I'm not taking _you_," he snarled, as he turned to see Hiccup watching him.

"Like I wanted to come," said Hiccup coldly. "I want to ask you something."

Uncle Magnus eyes him suspiciously.

"Third years at Be—at my school are allowed to visit the village sometimes," said Hiccup.

"So?" snapped Uncle Magnus, taking his keys from a hook next to the door.

"I need you to sign the permission form," said Hiccup in a rush."

"And why should I do that?" sneered Uncle Magnus.

"Well," said Hiccup, choosing his words carefully, "the last thing I would want is slip up when I pretend to Aunt Helga that I go to Whatsits…"

"Brutus's Secure Centre for Incurably Criminal Boys!" bellowed Uncle Magnus, and Hiccup was pleased to hear a definite note of panic in Uncle Magnus' voice.

"Yeah, that place," said Hiccup, looking calmly up into Uncle Magnus' large, purple face. "It is a lot to remember. I'll have to make it sound convincing, won't I? But what would happen if I _accidentally_ mess-up?"

"_You'll get the stuffing knocked out of you, won't you?_" roared Uncle Magnus, advancing on Hiccup with fists raised. But Hiccup stood his ground.

"Knocking the stuffing out of mw won't make Aunt Helga forget what I could tell her," he said grimly.

Uncle Magnus stopped, his fist still raised, his face an ugly puce.

"But if you sign my permission form," Hiccup went on quickly, "I swear by Loki I'll remember where I'm supposed to go to school, and I'll act like a Mug—like I'm normal and everything."

Hiccup could tell that Uncle Magnus was thinking it over, even if his teeth were bared and a vein was throbbing in his temple.

"Right," he snapped finally. "I shall monitor your behaviour carefully during Helga's visit. If, at the end, you've toed the line and kept to the story, I'll sign your ruddy form."

He wheeled around, pulled open the front door and slammed it so hard that one of the little panes of glass at the top fell out.

Hiccup didn't return to the kitchen. He went back upstairs to his bedroom. If he was going to act like a real Muggle, he'd better start now. Slowly and sadly he gathered up all his presents and his birthday cards and hid them under the loose floorboard with his homework. Then he went to Sharpshot's cage. Errol seemed to have recovered; he and Sharpshot were both asleep, heads under their wings. Hiccup sighed, he hate waking dragon when there asleep they always looked to peaceful, and poked them both awake.

"Sharpshot," he said gloomily, "you're going to have to leave the house for a week. Go with Errol, Astrid'll look after you. I'll write her a note, explaining the situation. And don't look at me like that'—Sharpshot large amber eyes were giving him puppy dog eyes, "it's not my fault. It's only way I'll be allowed to visit Berksmeade with Astrid and Ragnar."

Ten minutes later, Errol and Sharpshot (who had a note to Astrid bound to his leg) soared out of the window and out of sight. Hiccup, now feeling thoroughly miserable, put the empty cage away inside the wardrobe.

But Hiccup didn't have long to brood. In next to no time, Aunt Runa was shrieking up the stirs for Hiccup to come down and get ready to welcome their guest.

"Do something about your hair!" Aunt Runa snapped as he reached the hall.

Hiccup couldn't see the point of trying to make his hair lie flat. Aunt Helga loved criticising him, so the untidier he looked, the happier she would be.

All too soon, there was a crunch of gravel outside as Uncle Magnus' car pulled back into the driveway, then the clunk of the car doors, and footsteps on the garden path.

"Get the door!" Aunt Runa hissed at Hiccup.

A feeling of great gloom in his stomach, Hiccup pulled the door open.

On the threshold stood Aunt Helga. She was very like Uncle Magnus; large, beefy and purple-faced, she even had a moustache, though not as bushy as his. In one hand she held an enormous suitcase, and tucked under the other was an old and evil-tempered bulldog.

"Where's my Olafers?" roared Aunt Helga. "Where's my neffy poo?"

Olaf came waddling down the hall, his blond hair plastered flat to his fat head, a bow-tie just visible under his many chins. Aunt Helga thrust the suitcase into Hiccup's stomach, knocking the wind out of him, seized Olaf in a tight one-armed hug and planted a large kiss on his cheek.

Hiccup knew perfectly well that Olaf only put up with Aunt Helga's hugs because he was well paid for it, and sure enough, when they broke apart, Olaf had crisp twenty-pound note clutched in his fat fist.

"Rune!" shouted Aunt Helga, striding past Hiccup as though he was a hat-stand. Aunt Helga and Aunt Runa kissed, or rather, Aunt Helga bumped her large jaw against Aunt Runa's bony cheekbone.

Uncle Magnus now came in, smiling jovially as he shut the door.

"Tea, Helga?" he said. "And what will Crusher take?"

"Crusher can have some tea out of my saucer," said Aunt Helga, as they trooped into the kitchen, leaving Hiccup alone in the hall with the suitcase. But Hiccup wasn't complaining; any excuse not to be with Aunt Runa was fine by him, so he began to heave the case upstairs into the spare bedroom, taking as long as he could.

By the time he got back to the kitchen, Aunt Helga had been supplied with rea and fruitcake and Crusher was lapping noisily in the corner. Hiccup saw Aunt Runa wince slightly as specks of tea and drool flecked her clean floor. Aunt Runa hated animals.

"Who's looking after the other dogs, Helga?" Uncle Magnus asked.

"Oh, I've got Colonel Fubster managing them," boomed Aunt Helga. "He's retired now, good for him to have something to do. But I couldn't leave poor Crusher. He pines if he's away from me."

Crush began to growl again as Hiccup sat down. This directed Aunt Helga's attention to Hiccup for the first time.

"So!" she barked. "Still here, are you?"

"Yes," said Hiccup.

"Don't you say 'yes' in that ungrateful tone," Aunt Helga growled. "It's damn good of Magnus and Runa to keep you. Wouldn't have done it myself. You'd have gone straight to an orphanage if you'd been dumped on _my_ doorstep."

Hiccup was bursting to say that he'd rather live in an orphanage than with the Dalssons, but the thought of the Berksmeade form stopped him. He forced his face into a painful smile.

"Don't you smirk at me!" boomed Aunt Helga. "I can see you haven't improved since I last saw you. I hoped school would knock some manner into you." She took a large gulp of tea, wiped her moustache and said, "Where is it that you send him again, Magnus?"

"Brutus's," said Uncle Magnus promptly. "It's a first-rate institution for hopeless cases."

"I see," said Aunt Helga. "Do they use the cane at Brutus's boy?" she barked across the table.

"Uh—"

Uncle Magnus nodded curtly behind Aunt Helga's back.

"Yes," said Hiccup. Then, feeling he might as well do the thing properly, he added, "All the time."

"Excellent," said Aunt Helga. "I won't have this namby-pamby, wishy-washy nonsense about not hitting people who deserve it. A good thrashing is what's needed in ninety-nine cases out of a hundred. Have _you _been beaten often?"

"Oh, yeah," said Hiccup, "loads of times."

Aunt Helga narrowed her eyes.

"I still don't like your tine, boy," she said. "I f you can speak of your beatings in that casual way, they clearly aren't hitting you hard enough. Runa, I'd write if I were you. Make it clear that you approve the use of extreme force in this boy's case."

Perhaps Uncle Magnus was worried that Hiccup might forget their bargain; in any case, he changed the subject abruptly.

"Heard the news this morning, Helga? What about that escaped prisoner, eh?"

* * *

As Aunt Helga started to make herself at home, Hiccup caught himself thinking almost longingly of life at number four without her. Uncle Magnus and Aunt Runa usually encouraged Hiccup to stay out of their way, which Hiccup was only too happy to do. Aunt Helga, on the other hand, wanted Hiccup under her eye at all times, so that she could boom out suggestions for his improvement. She delighted in comparing Hiccup with Olaf, and took huge pleasure in buying Olaf expensive presents whilst glaring at Hiccup, as though daring him to ask why he hadn't got a present too. She also kept throwing out dark hints about what made Hiccup such an unsatisfactory person.

"You mustn't blame yourself for the way the boy's turned out, Magnus," she said over lunch on the third day. "If there's something rotten on the _inside_, there's nothing anyone can do about it."

Normally Hiccup was able to control his anger, but Aunt Helga was one of those rare few who could get him to his boiling point. He tried to concentrate on his food, but his hands shook and his face was starting to burn with anger. _Remember the form_, he told himself._ Think about Berksmeade. Don't say anything. Don't rise—_"

Aunt Helga reached for her glass of wine.

"It's one of the basic rules of breeding," she said. "You see it all the time with dogs. If there's something wrong with the bitch, there'll be something wrong with the pup—"

At that moment, the wine glass Aunt Helga was holding exploded in her hand. Shards of glass flew in every direction and Aunt Helga spluttered and blinked, he great ruby face dripping.

"Helga!" squealed Aunt Runa. "Helga, are you all right?"

"Not to worry," grunted Aunt Helga, mopping her face with her napkin. "Must have squeezed it too hard. Did the same thing at Colonel Fubster's the other day. No need to fuss, Runa, I have a very firm grip…"

However, at closer examination Hiccup could see that the sharps of glass looked melted. Aunt Runa and Uncle Magnus were both looking at Hiccup suspiciously, so he decided he'd better skip pudding and escape from the table as soon as he could.

Outside in the hall, he leaned against the wall, breathing deeply. It had been a long time since he'd lost control and made something explode. He couldn't afford to let it happen again. The Berksmeade form wasn't the only thing at stake—if he carried on like this, he'd be in trouble with the Ministry of Magic.

Hiccup was still a underage Viking, and he was forbidden by Viking law to do magic outside the academy. His record wasn't exactly clean, either. Only last summer he'd got an official warning which had stated quite clearly that if the Ministry got wind of any more magic in Privet Drive, Hiccup would face expulsion from Berk.

He heard the Dalssons leaving the table and hurried upstairs out of the way.

* * *

Hiccup got through the next three days by forcing himself to think about his _Handbook of Do-it-yourself Saddlecare_ whenever Aunt Helga started on him. This worked quite well, though it seemed to give him a glazed look, because Aunt Helga started voicing the opinion that he was mentally subnormal.

At last, at long last, the final evening of Helga's stay arrived. Aunt Runa cooked a fancy dinner and Uncle Magnus uncorked several bottles of wine. They got all the way through the soup and the salmon without a single mention of Hiccup's faults; during the lemon meringue pie, Uncle Magnus bored them all with a long talk about Grunnings, his drill-making company; then Aunt Runa made coffee and Uncle Magnus brought out a bottle of brandy.

"Can I tempt you, Helga?"

Aunt Helga had already had rather a lot of wine. Her huge face was very red.

"Just a small one, then," she chuckled. "A bit more than that… and a bit more… that's the boy."

Olaf was eating his fourth slice of pie. Aunt Runa was sipping coffee with her little finger sticking out. Hiccup really wanted to disappear into his bedroom, but he met Uncle Magnus' voice angry little eyes and knew he would have to sit it out.

"Aah," said Aunt Helga, smacking her lips and putting the empty brandy glass back down. "Excellent nosh, Runa. It's normally just a fry-up for me of an evening, with twelve dogs to look after…" She burped richly and patted her great tweed stomach. "Pardon me. But I do like to see a healthy-sized boy," she went on, winking at Olaf. "You'll be a proper-sized man, Olafers, like your father. Yes, I'll have a spot more brandy, Magnus…"

"Now, this one here—"

She jerked her head to Hiccup, who felt his stomach clench. _The Handbook_, he thought quickly.

"This one's got a mean, runty look about him. You get that with dogs. I had Colonel Fubster drown one last year. Ratty little thing it was. Weak. Underbred."

Hiccup was trying to remember page twelve of his book: _A Wind Spell to Boost Dragon Speed._

"It all comes down to blood, as I was saying the other day. Bad blood will out. Now, I'm saying nothing against your family Runa"—she pattered Aunt Rune's bony hand with her shovel-like one, "but your sister was a bad egg. They turn up in the best families. Then she ran off with a wastrel and here's the result right in front of us."

Hiccup was staring at his plate, a funny ringing in his ear. _Grasp your saddle's reins firmly,_ he thought. But he couldn't remember what came next. Aunt Helga's voice seemed to be boring into him like one of Uncle Magnus' drills.

"This Haddock," said Aunt Helga loudly, seizing the brandy bottle and splashing more into her glass and over the tablecloth, "you never told me what he did?"

Uncle Magnus and Aunt Runa were looking extremely tense. Olaf had even looked up from his pie to gape at his parents.

"He—didn't work," said Uncle Magnus, with half a glance at Hiccup. "Unemployed."

"As I expected!" said Aunt Helga, taking a huge swing of brandy and wiping her chin on her sleeve. "A no-account, good-for-nothing, lazy scrounger who—"

"He was not," said Hiccup suddenly. The table went very quiet. Hiccup was shaking all over. He had never felt so angry in his life.

"MORE BRANDY!" yelled Uncle Magnus, who had gone very white. He emptied the bottle into Aunt Helga's glass. "You, boy," he snarled at Hiccup. "Go to bed, go on—"

"No, Magnus," hiccoughed Aunt Helga, holding up a hand, her tiny bloodshot eyes fixed on Hiccup's. "Go on, boy, go no. Proud of your parents, are you? They go and get themselves killed in a car crash (drunk, I expect)—"

"They didn't die in a car crash!" said Hiccup, who found himself on his feet.

"They died in a car crash, you nasty little liar, and left you to be a burden on their decent, hardworking relatives!" screamed Aunt Helga, swelling with fury. "You are an insolent, ungrateful little—"

But Aunt Helga suddenly stopped speaking. For a moment, it looked as though words had failed her. She seemed to be swelling with inexpressible—but the swelling didn't stop. Her great red face started to expand, her tiny eyes bulged and her mouth stretched too tightly for speech. Next second, several buttons burst from her tweed jacket and pinged off the walls—she was inflating like a monstrous balloon, her stomach bursting free of her tweed waistband, each of her fingers blowing up like a salami and steam was pouring out of her mouth and ears.

Hiccup didn't know how he did it, but somehow he managed to inflate Aunt Helga with a large amount of hot air.

"HELGA!" yelled Uncle Magnus and Aunt Runa together, as Aunt Helga's whole body began to rise off her chair towards the ceiling. She was entirely round, now, like a vast life buoy with piggy eyes, and her hands and feet stuck out weirdly as she drifted up into the air, leaving a trail of steam behind as she made apoplectic popping noises. Crusher came skidding into the room barking madly.

"NOOOOOO!"

Uncle Magnus seized one of Helga's feet and tried to pull her down again, but was almost lifted from the floor himself. Next second, Crusher had leapt forward and sunk his teeth into Uncle Maguns' leg.

"Always thought she was full of hot air," said Hiccup as he left the room before anyone could stop him.

He headed for the cupboard under the stairs. The cupboard's lock magically melted and he opened the door. In seconds, he had heaved his trunk to the front door. He sprinted upstairs and threw himself under the bed, wrenched up loose floorboard and grabbed the pillowcase full of his books and birthday presents. He wriggled out, seized Sharpshot's empty cage and dashed back downstairs to his trunk, just as Uncle Magnus burst out of the dining room, his trouser leg in bloody tatters.

"Let me guess, you're not going to fill in my form?" said Hiccup coldly

"FORGET THE BLASTED FORM AND COME BACK IN HERE!" Uncle Magus bellowed. "COME BACK AND PUT HER RIGHT!"

But a reckless rage had come over Hiccup. He kicked his trunk open, pulled out his sword and pointed it at Uncle Magnus.

"She deserved it," Hiccup said, breathing fast. "She deserved what she got. You keep away from me."

He fumbled behind him for the catch on the door.

"I'm going," Hiccup said. "I've had enough."

And next moment, he was out in the dark, quiet street, heaving his heavy trunk behind him, Sharpshot's cage under his arm.


	3. The Dragon Night Bus

**I hope you all had a great Christmas. Anyway, I'll being going to visit my Grandmother soon and I don't know when the next update will be.**

* * *

Hiccup was several streets away before he collapsed onto a low wall in Magnolia Crescent, panting from the effort of dragging his trunk. He sat suite still, anger still surging through him, listening to the frantic thumping of his heart.

"Where was I planning on going?" Hiccup asked himself.

He was right, he left Privet Drive in such a fool mood he never thought about where to go. There was another problem, he had just done serious magic, which meant that he was almost certainly expelled from Berk. He had had broken the Decree for the Restriction of Underage Vikings so badly, he was surprised Ministry of Magic representatives weren't swooping down on him where he sat.

Hiccup shivered and looked up and down Magnolia Crescent. What was going to happen to him? would he be arrested, or would he simply be outlawed from the Viking world? He thought of Astrid and Ragnar, and his heart sank even lower. Hiccup was sure that, criminal or not, Astrid and Ragnar would want to help him now, but they were both abroad, and with Sharpshot gone, he had no means of contacting them.

He didn't have any Muggle money, either. There was a little Viking gold in the moneybag at the bottom of his trunk, but the rest of the fortune his parents had left him was stored in a vault at Gringotts Viking Bank in London. He'd never be able to drag his trunk all the way to London.

Then suddenly a funny prickling on the back of his neck had made Hiccup feel he was being watched, but the street appeared to be deserted, and no lights shone from any of the large square houses.

He bent over his trunk again, but almost immediately stood up once more, his hand clenching on his sword. He had sensed rather than heard it: someone or something was standing in the narrow gap between the garage and the fence behind him. Hiccup squinted at the black alleyway. If only it would move, then he'd know whether it was just a stray cat or—something else.

Hiccup raised his sword over his head and ignited it. The pebble-dashed walls of number two suddenly sparked; the garage door gleamed, and between them, Hiccup saw, quite distinctly, the hulking outline of something very big, with wide, gleaming eyes.

Hiccup stepped backwards. His legs hit his trunk and he tripped. His sword flew out of his hand as he flung out an arm to break his fall, and he landed, hard in the gutter.

There was a deafening BANG and Hiccup threw up his hands to shield his eyes against a sudden blinding light…

With a yell, he rolled back onto the pavement, just in time. A second later, a gigantic pair of wheels and headlights had screeched to a halt exactly where Hiccup had just been lying. They belonged, as Hiccup saw when he raised his head, to a triple-decker, pitch black bus, which had appeared out of thin air. Gold lettering over the windscreen spelled _The Night Dragon Bus._

For a split second, Hiccup wondered if he had been knocked silly by his fall. Then a conductor in black clothing leapt out of the bus and began to speak loudly to the night.

"Welcome to the Night Dragon Bus, emergency transport for the stranded Viking or Valkyrie. Just stick out your sword arm, step on board and we can take you anywhere you want to go, my name is Iarl the Idiot, and I will be your conductor this ever—"

The conductor stopped abruptly. He had just caught sight of Hiccup, who was still sitting on the ground. Hiccup snatched up his sword again and scrambled to his feet. Close to, he saw that Iarl the Idiot was only a few years older than he was; eighteen or nineteen at most, with large, protruding ears and a fair pimples.

"What were you doin' down there?" said Iarl, dropping his professional manner.

"Fell over," said Hiccup.

"'Choo fall over for?" sniggered Iarl.

"I didn't so it on purpose," said Hiccup, annoyed. One of the knees in his trousers was torn, and and the hand he thrown out to break his fall was bleeding. He suddenly remembered why he had fallen over, and turned around quickly to stare at the alleyway flooding it with light, and it was empty.

"'Choo lookin' at?" said Iarl.

"There was a big black thing," said Hiccup, pointing uncertainly into the gap. "Like a dog… but massive…"

He looked around at Iral, whose mouth slightly open. "Defiantly lives up to his title_,_" Hiccup thought. Then he realised that Iral's eyes were moving to the scar on Hiccup's forehead.

"Woss that on your 'head?" said Iral abruptly.

"Nothing," said Hiccup quickly, flattening his hair over his scar. If the Ministry of Magic was looking for him, he didn't want to make it too easy for them.

"Woss your name?" said Iral abruptly.

"Fishlegs Ingerman," said Hiccup, saying the first name that came into his head. "So—so this bus," he went on quickly, hopping to distract Iral, "did you say it goes _anywhere_?"

"Yep," said Iral proudly, "Anywhere you like, long's it's on land. Can't do nuffink underwater. 'Ere," he said, looking suspicious again, "you _did_ flag us down, dincha? Stuck out your sword 'and, dincha?"

"Yes," said Hiccup quickly. "Listen, how much would it be to get to London?"

"Eleven Sickles," said Iral, "but for firteen you get 'ot chocolate, and for fifteen you get an 'ot-water bottle an' a toofbrush in the colour of your choice."

Hiccup rummaged once more in his trunk, extracted his money bag and shoved some silver into Iral's hand. He and Iral then lifted his trunk, with Sharpshot's cage balanced on top, up the steps of the bus.

There were no seats; instead, half-a-dozen brass bedsteads stood beside the curtained windows. Candles were burning in brackets beside each bed, illuminating the wood-panelled walls. A tiny Viking in a nightcap at the rear of the bus muttered, "Not now, thanks, I'm pickling some slugs," and rolled over in his sleep.

"You 'ave this one," Iral whispered, shoving Hiccup's trunk under the bed right behind the driver, who was sitting in an armchair in front of the steering wheel. "This is our driver, Eric the Near-sighted. This is Fishlegs Ingerman, Eric."

Eric the Near-sighted, an elderly Viking wearing thick glasses, nodded to Hiccup, who nervously flattened his fringe again and sat down on his bed. He was also nervous, because some called "the Near-sighted" isn't someone you would want to drive you around the country.

"Take 'er away, Eric," said Iral, sitting down in the armchair next to Eric.

There was another tremendous BANG, and next moment Hiccup found himself flat on his bed, thrown backwards by the speed of the Night Dragon Bus. Pulling himself up, Hiccup stared out of the dark window and saw that they were now bowling along a completely different street. Iral was watching Hiccup's stunned face with great enjoyment.

"This is where we was before you flagged us down," he said. "Where are, Eric? Somewhere in Wales?"

"Aye," said Eric.

"How come the Muggles don't hear the bus?" said Hiccup.

"Them!" said Iral contemptuously. "They wouldn't recognise a dragon even if it sat in their backyard. They don't listen properly, do they? Don't look properly either. Never notice nuffink, they don'"

"Best go wake up Madam Marsh, Iral," said Eric. "We'll be in Abergavenny in a minute.

Iral passed Hiccup's bed and disappeared up a narrow wooden staircase. Hiccup was still looking out of the window, feeling increasingly nervous. Eric didn't seem to hate mastered the use of a steering wheel. The Night Dragon Bus kept mounting the pavement, but it didn't hit anything; lines of lamp posts, letter boxes and bins jumped out of the way as it approached and back into position once it had passed.

Iral came back downstairs, followed by a faintly green Valkyrie wrapped in a travelling cape.

"'Ere you go, Madam Marsh," said Iral happily, as Eric stamped on the brake and beds slid a foot of so towards the front of the bus Madam Marsh clamped a handkerchief to her mouth and tottered down the steps. Iral threw her bag out after her and rammed the doors shut; there was another loud BANG, and they were thundering down a narrow country lane, trees leaping out of the way.

Hiccup wouldn't have been able to sleep even if he had been travelling on a bus that didn't keep banging loudly and jumping a hundred miles at a time. His stomach churned as he fell back to wondering what was going to happen to him, and whether the Dalssons had managed to get Aunt Helga off the ceiling yet.

Iral had unfurled a copy of the _Daily Prophet_ and was now reading with his tongue between his teeth. A large photograph of a sunken-faced man with long, matted hair blinking slowly at Hiccup from the front page. He looked strangely familiar.

"That man!" Hiccup said forgetting his troubles for a moment. "He was on the Muggle news!"

Iral turned to the front page and chuckled.

"Alvin Blackson or as we call him Alvin the Treacherous," he said nodded. "'Course 'e was on the Muggle news, Fishlegs. Where you been?"

He gave a superior sort of chuckle at the blank look on Hiccup's face, removed the front page and handed it to Hiccup.

"You oughta read the papers more, Fishlegs."

Hiccup held the paper up to the candlelight and read:

_ALVIN THE TREACHEROUS AT LARGE_

_Alvin the Treacherous, possibly the most infamous prisoner ever to be held in Azakaban fortress, is still eluding capture, the Ministry of Magic confirmed today._

"_We are doing all we can to recapture Alvin the Treacherous," said the Minister for Magic, Fudge the Mighty, this morning, "and we beg the magical community to remain calm."_

_Fudhe has been criticised by some members of the International Federation of Berserkers for informing the Muggle Prime Minister of the crisis._

"_Well, really I had to, don't you know," said an irritable Fudge. "Alvin the Treacherous is mad. He's a danger to anyone who crosses him, magic or Muggle. I have the Prime Minister's assurance that he will not breathe a word of Alvin the Treacherous' true identity to anyone. And let's face it—who'd believe him if he did?"_

_While Muggles have been told that Alvin the Treacherous is carrying a gun (a kind of metal crystal eye which Muggles use to kill each other), the magical community lives in fear of a massacre like that of twelve years ago, when Alvin the Treacherous murdered thirteen people with a single Fire Curse._

Hiccup looked into the shadowed eyes of Alvin the Treacherous, the only part of the sunken face that seemed alive. Hiccup never met a demon, but he had seen pictures of them in his Combat Arts classes, and Alvin, with his waxy white skin looked just like one.

"Scary-lookin' fing, inee?" said Iral, who had been watching Hiccup read.

"He murdered _thirteen people_?" said Hiccup, handing the page back to Iral, "with _one curse_?"

"Yep," said Iral. "In front of witnesses an' all. Broad daylight. Big trouble it caused, dinnit, Eric?"

"Aye," said Eric darkly.

Iral swivelled in his armchair, his hands on the back, the better to look at Hiccup.

"Alvin the Treacherous woz a big supporter of the Dragon Lord," he said.

"What, Dra—I mean the Dragon Lord?" said Hiccup biting his own tongue for almost saying Drago's name.

"Yeah," said Iral, who had not noticed Hiccup slipup. "Yeah, that's right. Very close to the Dragon Lord, they say… anyway, when little, 'Iccup 'Addock put paid to the Dragon Lord"—Hiccup nervously flattened his fringe down again—"all the Dragon Lord's supporters was tracked down, wasn't they, Eric? Most of 'em knew it was all over, wiv the Dragon Lord gone, and they came quiet. But not Alvin the Treacherous. I 'eard he thought 'e'd be second-in-command once the Dragon Lord 'ad taken over."

"Anyway, they cornered Alvin in the middle of a street full of Muggles an' Alvin took out is axe and 'e blasted 'alf the sreet apart, an' a Viking got it, an' so did a dozen Muggles what got in the way. 'Orrible, eh? An' you know what Alvin did then?" Iral continued un a dramatic whisper.

"What?" said Hiccup.

"_Laughed_," said Iral.

"Seriously?" said Hiccup stunned.

"No joke. 'E jus' stood there an' laughed. An' when reinforcements from the Ministry of Magic got there, 'e went wiv 'em quiet as anytink, still laughing 'is 'head off. 'Cos 'e's mad, inee, Eric? Inee mad."

"If he weren't when he went to Azkaban, he will be now," said Eric in his slow voice. "I'd blow meself up before I set foot in that place. Serves him right, mind…after what he did…"

"They 'ah a job coverin' it up, din' they, Eric?" said Iral. "'Ole street blown up an' all them Muggles dead. What was it they said 'ad 'appened, Eric?"

"Gas explosion," grunted Eric.

"An' now 'e's out," said Iral, examining the newspaper picture of Alvin's gaunt face again. "Never been a breakout from Azakaban before, 'as there, Eric? Beats me 'ow 'e did it. Frightenin', eh? Mind, I don't fancy 'is chances against them Azakaban guards, eh, Eric?"

Eric suddenly shivered.

"Talk about summat else, Iral, there's a good lad. Them Azkaban guards give me the collywobbles."

Iral put the paper away reluctantly and Hiccup leaned against the window of the Dragon Night Bus, feeling worse than ever. He couldn't help imagining what Iral might be telling his passengers in a few nights' time.

"'Ear about that 'Iccup 'Addock? Blew up 'is Aunt! We 'ad 'im 'ere on the Dragon Night Bus, di'n't we, Eric? 'E was tryin' to run for it…"

He, Hiccup, had broken Viking law just like Alvin the Treacherous. Was inflating Aunt Helga bad enough to land him in Azakaban? Hiccup didn't know anything about the Viking prison, though everyone he'd ever heard speak of it did do in the same fearful tone. Gobber the Belch the Forge Master of Berk had spent two months there only last year. Hiccup wouldn't soon forget the look of terror on Gobber's face when he had been told where he was going and Gobber was one of the bravest people Hiccup knew.

The Dragon Night Bus rolled through the darkness, scattering bushes and bollards, telephone boxes and trees, and Hiccup lay, restless and miserable, on his feather bed. After a while, Iral remembered that Hiccup had paid for hot chocolate, but poured it all over Hiccup's pillow when the bus moved abruptly from Anglesea to Aberdeen. One by one, Vikings and Valkyries in dressing gowns and slippers descended from the upper floors to leave the bus. They all looked very pleased to go.

Finally, Hiccup was the only passenger left.

"Right then, Fishlegs," said Iral, clapping his hands, "where abouts in London?"

"Diagon Alley," said Hiccup.

"Righto," said Iral, "'old tight then…"

BANG

There were thundering along Charing Cross Road. Hiccup sat up and watched buildings and benches squeezing themselves out of the Dragon Night Bus's way. The sky was getting a little lighter. He would lie low for a couple of hours, go to Gringotts the moment it opened, then set off—where, he didn't know.

Eric slammed on the brakes and the Dragon Night Bus skidded to a halt in front of a small, shabby-looking and abandoned pub, the Leaky Cauldron, behind which lay the magical entrance to Diagon Alley.

This would a new experience for him, he never entered the Leaky Cauldron by the main entrance. Last time Gobber had flown him to the stables on top of the building where Viking and Valkyries left their dragons and rode down on the elevator.

"Thanks," Hiccup said to Eric.

He jumped down the steps and helped Iral lower his trunk and Sharpshot's cage onto the pavement.

"Well," said Hiccup, "bye then!"

But Iral wasn't paying attention. Still standing in the doorway to the bus, he was goggling at the shadowy entrance to the Leaky Cauldron.

"_There_ you are, Hiccup," said a voice.

Before Hiccup could turn, he felt a hand on his shoulder. At the same time, Iral shouted, "By Odin's beard! Eric, some 'ere! Come _'ere_!"

Hiccup looked up at his owner of the hand on his shoulder and felt a bucket of ice cascade into his stomach—he had walked right into Fudge the Mighty, the Minister for Magic himself.

"The gods must hate me," said Hiccup.

Iral leapt onto the pavement beside them.

"What didja call Fishlegs, Minister?" he said excitedly.

Fudge, a portly little man in a long, pinstriped cloak, looked cold and exhausted.

"Fishlegs?" he repeated, frowning, "This is Hiccup Haddock."

"I knew it!" Iral shouted gleefully. "Eric! Eric! Guess 'oo Fishlegs is Eric! 'E's Hiccup Haddock! I can see 'is scar!"

"Yes," said Fudge testily. "Well, I'm glad the Dragon Night Bus picked Hiccup up, but he and I need to step inside the Leaky Cauldron now…"

Fudge increased the pressure on Hiccup's shoulder, and Hiccup found himself being steered inside the pub. A stooping figure bearing a lantern appeared through the door behind the bar. It was Tola the Innkeeper, the toothless landlord.

"You've got him, Minister!" said Tola. "Will you be wanting anything? Beer? Brandy?"

"Perhaps a cup of coffee," said Fudge, who still hadn't let go of Hiccup.

There was a loud scraping and puffing from behind them, and Iral and Eric appeared, carrying Hiccup's trunk and Sharpshot's cage and looking around excitedly.

"'Ow come you di'n't tell us 'oo you are, eh, Fishlegs?" saud Iral, beaming at Hiccup, while Eric owlish face peered interestedly over Iral's shoulder.

"And a _private_ parlour, please, Tola," said Fudge pointedly.

"Bye," Hiccup said miserably to Iral and Eric, as Tola beckoned Fudge towards the passage that led from the bar.

"Bye, Fishlegs!" called Iral.

Fudge marched Hiccup along the narrow passage after Tola's lantern, and then into a small parlour. Tola clicked his fingers, a fire burst into life in the grate, and he bowed himself out of the room.

"Sit down, Hiccup," said Fudge, indicating a chair by the fire.

Hiccup sat down, feeling goosebumps rising up his arms despite the glow of the fire. Fudge took off his pinstriped cape and tossed it aside and then sat opposite to Hiccup.

"I am Fudge the Mighty, Hiccup. The Minister for Magic."

Hiccup already knew this, of course; he had seen Fudge once before, but as he had been wearing his father's Invisibility Cape at the time, Fudge wasn't to know that.

Tola the Innkeeper reappeared, wearing an apron over his nightshirt and bearing a tray with two mugs of coffee. He placed the tray on a table between Fudge and Hiccup, and left the parlour, closing the door behind him.

"Well, Hiccup," said Fudge, picking up his mug of coffee, "you've had us all in a right flap. I don't mind telling you. Running away from your aunt and uncle's house lie that! I'd started to think… but you're safe and that's what matters."

Fudge took a sip of coffee and noticed that Hiccup had touched his mug.

"Drink up, Hiccup, you look dead on your feet. Now then… you will be pleased to hear that we have dealt with the unfortunate blowing-up of Miss Helga Dalsson. Two members of the Accidental Magic Reversal Department were dispatched to Privet Drive a few hours ago. Miss Dalsson has been deflated and her memory has been modified. She has no recollection of the incident at all. So that's that, and no harm done."

Fudge smiled at Hiccup over the rim of his mug, rather like an uncle surveying a favourite nephew. Hiccup, who couldn't believe his ears, opened his mouth to speak, couldn't think of anything to say, and closed it again.

"Ah, you're worrying about the reaction of your aunt and uncle?" said Fudge. "Well, I won't deny that they are extremely angry, Hiccup, but they are prepared to take you back next summer as long as you stay at Berk for the Snoggletog and Thor holidays."

Hiccup unstuck his throat.

"I _always_ stay at Berk for the Snoggletog and Thor holidays," he said, "and I don't ever want to go back to Privet Drive.

"Now, now, I'm sure you'll feel differently once you've calmed down," said Fudge in a worried tone. "They are your family, after all, and I'm sure you are find if each other—uh—_very_ deep down."

It didn't occur to Hiccup to put Fudge right. He was still waiting to hear what was going to happen to him now.

"So all that remains," said Fudge, now finishing off his coffee, "is to decide where you're going to spend the last two weeks of your holidays. I suggest you take a room here at the Leaky Cauldron and—"

"Hang on," blurted Hiccup, "what about my punishment?"

Fudge blinked.

"Punishment?"

"I broke the law!" Hiccup said. "The Decree for the Restriction of Underage Vikings!"

"Oh, my dear boy, we're not going to punish you for a little thing like that!" cried Fudge, waving his crumpet impatiently. "It was an accident! We don't send people to Azkaban just for blowing up their aunts.

"But this didn't tally at all with Hiccup's past dealing with the Ministry of Magic.

"Last year, I got an official warning just because a house-elf smashed a pudding in my uncle's house!" said Hiccup, frowning. "The Ministry of Magic said I'd be expelled from Berk if there was any more magic there!"

Unless Hiccup's eyes were deceiving him, Fudge was suddenly looking awkward.

"Circumstances change, Hiccup… we have to take into account… in the present climate… surely you don't _want_ to be expelled?"

"Of course I don't," said Hiccup.

"Well then, what's all the fuss about?" laughed Fudge airily. "Now, take a sip of coffee, Hiccup, while I go and see if Tola's got a room for you."

Fudge strode out of the parlour and Hiccup stared after him. There was something extremely odd going on. Why had Fudge been waiting for him at the Leaky Cauldron, if not to punish him for what he'd done. And now Hiccup came to think of it, surely it wasn't usual for the Minister for Magic _himself_ to get involved in matters of underage magic?

Fudge came back, accompanied by Tola the Innkeeper.

"Room eleven's free, Hiccup," said Fudge. "I think you'll be very comfortable. Just one thing, and I'm sure you'll understand: I don't want you wandering off into Muggle London, all right? Keep to Diagon Alley. And you're to be back here before dark each night. sure you'll understand. Tola will be keeping an eye on you for me."

"Okay," said Hiccup slowly, "but why—?"

"Don't want to lose you again, do we?" said Fudge with a hearty laugh. "No, no… best we know where you are… I mean…"

Fudge cleared his throat loudly and picked up his pinstriped cape.

"Well, I'll be off, plenty to do, you know."

"Have you had any luck with Alvin the Treacherous yet?" Hiccup asked.

Fudge's fingers slipped on the silver fastenings of his cloak.

"What's that? Oh, you've heard—well, no, not yet, but it's only a matter of time. the Azkaban guards have never yet failed… and they are angrier than I've seen them."

Fudge shuddered slightly.

"So, I'll say goodbye."

He held out his hand and Hiccup shaking it, had a sudden idea.

"Uh—Minister? Can ask you something?"

"Certainly," smiled Fudge.

"Well, third years at Berk are allowed to visit Berksmeade, but my aunt and uncle didn't sign the permission form. D'you think you could?"

Fudge was looking uncomfortable.

"Ah," he said. "No. no, I'm very sorry, Hiccup, but as I'm not your parent or guardian—"

"But you're the Minister for Magic," said Hiccup eagerly. "If you gave me permission—"

"No, I'm sorry, Hiccup, but rules are rules," said Fudge flatly. "Perhaps you'll be able to visit Berksmeade next year. In fact, I think it best if you don't… yes… well, I'll be off. Enjoy your stay, Hiccup."

And with a last smile and shake of Hiccup's hand, Fudge left the room. Tola now moved forward, beaming at Hiccup.

"Nice try, lad," Tola chuckled. "Now if you'll follow me to your room. You'll find your things are already there."

Hiccup followed Tola up a handsome wooden staircase to a door with brass number eleven on it, which Tola unlocked and opened for him.

Inside was a very comfortable-looking bed, some highly polished oak furniture, a cheerfully crackling fire and, perched on top of the wardrobe—

"Sharpshot!" Hiccup gasped.

The green Terrible Terror gave a small roar and flew onto Hiccup's shoulder nuzzling him.

"Very smart Terrible Terror you've got there," Tola chuckled. "Arrived about five minutes after you did. If there's anything you need, Mr Haddock, don't hesitate to ask."

He gave another bow and left.

Hiccup sat on his bed for a long time, absent-mindedly stroking Sharpshot. The sky outside the window was changing rapidly from deep, velvety Blue to cold, steely grey and then, slowly, to pink shot with gold. Hiccup could hardly believe that he'd only left Privet Drive a few hours ago, that he wasn't expelled, and that he was now facing two completely Dalsson-free weeks.

"It's been a very weird night, Sharpshot," he yawned.

And he slumped back onto his pillows and fell asleep.


	4. The Leaky Cauldron

**Happy New Year everybody. I'm sorry for the long update, but I went to visit by grandmother, who lives two hundred miles away. Anyway he's by new chapter.**

* * *

It took Hiccup several days to get used to his strange new freedom. Never before had he been able to get up whenever he wanted or eat whatever he fancied. He could even go wherever he liked, as long as it was in Diagon Alley, and as this long cobbled street was packed with the most fascinating Viking shops in the world, Hiccup felt no desire to break his word to Fudge and stray back into the Muggle world.

Hiccup ate breakfast each morning in the Leaky Cauldron, where he liked watching the other guests: funny little Valkyries from the country, up for a day's shopping; venerable-looking Vikings arguing over the latest in _Transfiguration Today_; wild-looking berserkers, raucous dwarfs and, once, what looked suspiciously like a hag, who ordered a plate of raw liver from behind a thick woollen balaclava.

After breakfast Hiccup would go out into the backyard, take out his sword, tap the third brick from the left above the dustbin, and stand back as the archway into Diagon Alley opened in the wall.

Hiccup spent the long sunny days exploring the shops and eating under the brightly coloured umbrellas outside cahes, where his fellow dinners were showing each other their purchases ("it's a lunasope, old boy—no more messing around with moon charts, see?") or else discussing the case of Alvin the Treacherous ("personally, I won't let any of the children out alone until he's back in Azkaban"). Hiccup didn't have to do his homework under the blankets by torchlight anymore; now he could sit in the bright sunshine outside Florean the Chilly's Ice-Cream Parlour, finishing all his essays with occasional help from Florean the Chilly himself, who, apart from knowing a great deal about medieval witch-burnings, gave Hiccup free sundaes every half-hour.

Once Hiccup had refilled his money bag with gold Galleons, silver Sickles and bronze Kunts from his vault at Gringotts, he needed to exercise a lot of self-control not to spend the whole lot at once. He had to keep reminding himself that he had five years to go at Berk, and how it would feel to ask the Dalssons for money for spellbooks, to stop himself buying a handsome set of solid gold Gobstones (a Viking game rather like marbles, in which the stones squirted a nasty-smelling liquid into the other player's face when they lost a point). He was sorely tempted too, by the perfect, moving model of the galaxy in a large glass ball, which would have meant he never had to take another Astronomy lesson. But the thing that tested Hiccup's resolution most appeared in his favourite shop, Dazzling Dragon Racing Supplies, a week after he'd arrived at the Leaky Cauldron.

Curious to know what the crowd in the shop was staring at, Hiccup edged his way inside and squeezed in amongst the excited Vikings and Valkyries until he glimpsed a newly erected podium on which was mounted the most magnificent saddle he had ever seen in his life.

"Just come out… prorotype…" a square-jawed Viking was telling his companion.

"It's the best saddle in the world isn't it, Dad?" squeaked a boy younger than Hiccup, who was swinging off his father's arm.

"Irish International Side's just put in an order for seven of these beauties!" the proprietor of the shop told the crowd. "And they're favourites for the World Cup!"

A large Valkyrie in front of Hiccup moved, and he was able to read the sign next to the saddle:

_THE FIREBOLT_

_This state-of-the-art racing saddle is made from Dwarven leather, treated with a diamond-hard polish and hand-numbered with its own registration number. Each individually selected stitching in the saddle has been honed to aerodynamic perfection, giving the Firebolt unsurpassable balance and pinpoint precision to any dragon that wears. The Firebolt boost the dragons' maximal speed by 150 miles. Price on request._

Price on request… Hiccup didn't like to think how much gold the Firebolt would cost. He had never wanted anything so much in his whole life—but he had never lost a Dragon Racing match on his Nimbus Two Thousand, and what was the point in emptying his Gringotts vault for the Firebolt, when he had a very good saddle already? Hiccup didn't ask for the price, but he returned, almost every day after that, just to look at the Firebolt.

There were, however, things that Hiccup needed to buy. He went to the Apothecary to replenish his store of potions' ingredients, and as his Viking cloths were now several inches too short in the arm and leg, he visited Madam Malkin's Viking and Valkyrie's dress and bought new ones. Most important of all, he had to buy his new school books, which would include those for his two new subjects, Forging and Soothsaying.

Hiccup noticed in the window whole stack of books that seemed to be smoking. At a closer look he saw that they were copies of _The Art of the Master Forger_. Trust Gobber to get him a book that was impossible to read without dragon skin gloves.

As Hiccup entered Flourish and Blotts, the manager came hurrying towards him.

"Berk?" he said abruptly. "Come to get your new books?"

"Yes," said Hiccup. "I need—"

"Get out of the way," said the manager impatiently, brushing Hiccup aside. He drew on a pair of dragon skin gloves and walked towards stack of Master Forger books.

"Hang on," said Hiccup quickly, "I've already got one of those."

"Have you?" A look enormous relief spread over the manager's face. "Thank Thor for that, I've been burnt five times already this morning."

He then shook his head at the stack of Master Forger books. "I'm never stocking them again, never! It's been bedlam! I thought we'd seen the worst when we bought two hundred copies of _The Invisible Book of Invisibility_—cost a fortune, and we never found them… Well, id there anything else I can help you with?"

"Yes," said Hiccup, looking down his booklist. "I need _Unfogging the Future_, Clearsmoke the Seer."

"Ah, starting Soothsaying, are you?" said the manager stripping off his gloves and leading Hiccup into the back of the shop, where there was a corner devoted to soothsaying. A small table was stacked with volumes such as _Predicting the Unpredictable: Insulate Yourself against Shocks and Broken Bones: When the Future turns Foul_.

"Here you are," said the manager, who was climbed a set of steps to take down a thick, black-bound book. "_Unfogging the Future_. Very good guide to all your basic fortune-telling methods-reading smoke images, read broken bones, screams from brain-dead Vikings…"

But Hiccup wasn't listening. His eye had fallen on another book, which was among a display on a small table: _What to Do When You Know the Worst is Coming_.

"Oh, I wouldn't read that is I were you," said the assistant lightly, looking to see what Hiccup was staring at. "You'll start seeing death omens everywhere, it's enough to frighten anyone to death."

But Hiccup continued to stare at the front cover of the book; it showed a black dog large as a bear, with gleaming eyes. It looked oddly familiar…

The assistant pressed _Unfogging the Future_ into Hiccup's hands.

"Anything else?" he said.

"Yes," said Hiccup, tearing his eyes away from the dog and dazedly consulting his booklist. "Uh—I need _Intermediate Transfiguration_ and_ The Standard Book of Spells, Grade Three_."

While the assistant went to get the books, Hiccup looked around the shop and suddenly his foot pressed against something. Next second something kept on falling on him, he found himself pressed against something, but couldn't see what it was.

"What was that?" the assistant asked, poking his head around the corner.

"I think I just found your two hundred copies of _The Invisible Book of Invisibility_," Hiccup groaned.

Hiccup emerged from Flourish and Blotts ten minutes later with his new books under his arms, and made his way back to the Leaky Cauldron, hardly noticed where he was going and bumping into several people.

He tramped up the stairs to his room, went inside and tipped his books onto his bed. Somebody had been in to tidy; the windows were open and sun was pouring inside. Hiccup could hear the buses rolling by in the unseen Muffle street behind him, and the sound of the invisible crowd below in Diagon Alley. He caught sight of himself in the mirror over the basin.

"It can't have been a death omen," he told his reflection defiantly. "I was panicking when I saw that thing in Magnolia Crescent. It was probably just a stray dog…"

He raised his hand automatically and tried to make his hair lie flat.

"You're fighting a losing battle there, dear," said his mirror in a wheezy voice.

* * *

As the days slipped by, Hiccup started looking wherever he went for a sign of Astrid or Ragnar. Plenty of Berk students were arriving in Diagon Alley now, with the start of term so near. Hiccup met Wartihog Brandir and the Thorston twins, his fellow Gryffindors, in _Dazzling Dragon Racing Supplies_, where they, too were ogling the Firebolt; he also ran into the real Fishlegs Ingerman, a huffy boy with skinny legs, outside Flourish and Blotts. Hiccup didn't stop to chat; Fishlegs appeared to have mislaid his booklist, and was being told off by his very formidable-looking grandmother. Hiccup hoped she never found out that he'd pretended to be Fishlegs while on the run from the Ministry of Magic.

Hiccup woke on the last day of the holidays, thinking that he would at least meet Astrid and Ragnar tomorrow, on the Berk Express. He got up, dressed, went for a last look at the Firebolt, and was just wondering where he'd have lunch, when someone yelled his name and he turned.

"Hiccup! HICCUP!"

They were there, both of them, sitting outside Florean the Chilly's Ice-Cream Parlour; Astrid looking incredibly beautiful, Ragnar very brown, both waving frantically at him.

"Finally!" said Astrid, grinning at Hiccup as he sat down. "We went to the Leaky Cauldron, but they said you'd left, and we went to Flourish and Blotts, and Madam Malkin's and—"

"I got all my school stuff last week," Hiccup explained. "And how come you know I'm staying at the Leaky Cauldron?"

"Dad," said Astrid simply.

Mr Hofferson, who worked at the Ministry of Magic, would of course have heard the whole story of what had happened to Aunt Helga.

"Did you _really_ blow up your aunt, Hiccup?" said Ragnar in bewilderment.

"I didn't mean to," said Hiccup, while Astrid giggled. "I just—lost control."

"It's not funny, Astrid," said Ragnar sharply. He then looked at Hiccup. "Though I couldn't blame your for losing your temper if the things that you told me about her were true. I'm actually more surprised that you weren't expelled.

"So am I," admitted Hiccup. "Forget expelled, I thought I was going to be arrested." He looked at Astrid. "Does your dad know why Fudge let me off, does he?"

"Probably because it's you," shrugged Astrid. "With you being the famous Hiccup Haddock and all. I'd hate to see what the Ministry would do to my _brothers_ if they blew up an aunt. Mind you, they'd have to dig them up first, because Mum would've killed them. Anyway, you can ask Dad yourself this evening. We're saying at the Leaky Cauldron tonight, too! So you can come to King's Cross with us tomorrow! Ragnar's there as well!"

Ragnar nodded, smiling. "Mum dropped me off this morning with all my Hogwarts things. Though she seemed a little uneasy."

"That's expected with Alvin the Treacherous wondering around," said Astrid.

"No," said Ragnar dismissively. "I think it goes deeper than that."

"Well, it's great seeing you guys," Hiccup said happily, trying to chance the subject. "So, have you got all your new books and stuff?"

"Have we got them?" said Astrid in disbelief, She looked at the bag under her chair. "I don't know what Gobber's playing at giving us books that can burn us with a single touch. The assistant practical burst into tear when we asked for two."

"Knowing him, he probably wanted to make this year with us memorial," said Hiccup. "As if last couple of years weren't memorial enough."

"Well, at least I got a new crystal eye," said Astrid, pulling a small thin box out of the bag and opened it. It was amber with a black slit in the middle. "Deadly Nadder. I can't wait to put this in my axe."

"What's all that, Rag?" Hiccup asked, pointing at not one, but three, bulging bags in the chair next to him.

"Did you forget I'm doing more subjects than you?" said Ragnar. "Those are my books for Arithmancy, Forging, Soothsaying, Ancient Runes, Muggle Studies—"

"Hang on, what are you doing Muggle Studies for?" said Astrid, rolling his eyes at Hiccup. "You're Muggle-born! Your mum is a Muggles! You already know all about Muggles!"

"I'm interested to see what Vikings point of view is," said Ragnar. "I'm surprised you didn't want to do it after your incident on the telephone."

"I thought we agreed to not talk about," said Astrid under her breath.

"The question is are you planning on eating or sleeping at all this year, Rag?" asked Hiccup, making Astrid giggle. Ragnar ignored them.

"I've still got ten Galleons," he said, checking his wallet. "It's my birthday in September, and Mum gave me some money to get myself an early birthday present."

How about a nice _book_?" said Astrid innocently.

"Very funny," said Ragnar glaring. "I'm planning on getting a Terrible Terror. I mean, Hiccup has Sharpshot and you've got Errol—"

"I haven't," said Astrid. "Errol's a family Terrible Terror. All I've got is Scabbers." She pulled her pet rat out of his pocket. "And I want to get him checked over," he added, placing Scabbers on the table in front of them. "I don't think the Barbaric Archipelago agreed with him."

Scabbers was looking thinner than usual, and there was a definite droop to his whiskers.

"There's a magical-creature shop just over there," said Hiccup, who knew Diagon Alley very well by now. "You can see if they've got anything for Scabbers, and Ragnar can get her Terrible Terror."

So they paid for their ice-creams and crossed the street to the Magical Menagerie.

There wasn't much room inside. Every inch of wall was hidden by cages. It was smelly and very noisy because the occupants of these cages were all squeaking, squawking, jabbering or hissing. The Valkyrie behind the counter was already advising a Viking on the care of double-ended newts, so Hiccup, Astrid and Ragnar waited, examining the cages.

A pair of enormous purple toads sat gulping wetly and feasting on dead blowflies. A gigantic tortoise with a jewel-encrusted shell was glittering near the window. Poisonous orange snails were oozing slowly up the side of their glass tank, and a fat white rabbit kept changing into a sparkling Viking helmet and back again with a loud popping noise. Then there were Terrible Terror of every colour, noisy cage of ravens, a basket of funny custard-coloured furballs that were humming loudly, and, on the counter, a vast cage of sleek black rats which were playing some sort of skipping game using their long tails.

The double-ended newt Viking left and Astrid approached the counter.

"It's my rat," she told the Valkyrie. "He's been a bit off-colour ever since I brought him back from the Barbaric Archipelago."

"Bang him on the counter, dear," said the Valkyrie, pulling a pair of heavy black spectacles out of her pocket.

Astrid lifted Scabbers out of his inside pocket and placed him next to the cage of his fellow rats, who stopped their skipping tricks and scuffled to the wire for a better look.

Kike nearly everything Astrid owned, Scabbers the rat was second-hand (he had once belonged to Astrid's brother Sven) and a bit battered. Next to the glossy rats in the cage, he looked especially woebegone.

"Hm," said the Valkyrie, picking Scabbers up. "How old is this rat?"

"I'm not sure," said Astrid. "He's pretty old. He used to belong to my brother, but we've had him for about twelve years."

"What powers does he have?" said the Valkyrie, examining Scabbers closely.

"Uh—none," said Astrid. It was true, Scabbers had never shown the faintest trace pf interesting powers. The Valkyrie's eyes moved from Scabbers' tattered left ear to his front paw, which had a toe missing, and tutted loudly.

"He's been through the mill, this one," she said.

"He was like that when Sven gave him to me," said Astrid defensively.

"An ordinary, common or garden rat like this can't be expected to live longer than three years or so," said the Valkyrie. "Now, if you were looking for something a bit more hard-wearing, you might like one of these…"

She indicated the black rats, who promptly started skipping again. Astrid muttered, "I hate show-offs."

"Well, if you don't want a replacement, you can try this Rat Tonic," said the Valkyrie, reaching under the counter and bringing out a small red bottle.

"Okay," said Astrid. "How much—OUCH!"

Astrid buckled as something huge and orange came soaring from the top of the highest cage, landed on her head and then propelled itself, snarling at Scabbers.

"NO, AMBER, NO!" cried the Valkyrie, but Scabbers shot from between her hands like a bar of soap, landed splay-legged on the floor and then scarpered for the door.

"Scabbers!" Astrid shouted, haring out of the shop after him; Hiccup followed.

It took them nearly ten minutes to find Scabbers, who had taken refuge under a wastepaper bin outside Dazzling Dragon Racing Supplies. Astrid stuffed the trembling rat into her satchel and straightened up, massaging her head.

"What _was_ that?"

"It was wither a very large Terrible Terror or quite a small Monstrous Nightmare," said Hiccup.

"Where's Ragnar?"

"Probably getting her Terrible Terror."

"Well, I hope he doesn't choose that one."

They made their way back up the crowded street to the Magical Menagerie. As they reached it, Ragnar came out, and it turned out that he indeed had chosen that orange scaled Terrible Terror.

"You _bought_ that monster?" said Astrid, looking as if she was deciding either to kill it or Ragnar.

"She's _beautiful_, isn't she?" said Ragnar.

Hiccup had to agree with that statement. The Terrible Terror had bright orange scales that shone in the sunlight and its eyes were bright amber colour. It was slightly larger than the normal Terrible Terror, but that didn't seem to matter at this point. Now that Scabbers was out of sight, it was purring contentedly in Ragnar's arms.

"Ragnar, that thing nearly scalped me?" said Astrid.

"She didn't do that on purpose, did you, Amber?" said Ragnar.

"And what about Scabbers?" said Astrid, pointing at her satchel. "He needs rest and relaxation! How's he going to get it with that thing around?"

"That reminds me, you forgot your Rat Tonic," said Ragnar, slapping the small red bottle into Astrid's hand. "And stop _worrying_, Amber will be at the stables and Scabbers will be in your dormitory, miles away from each other. I don't see a problem. Anyway, that Valkyrie said she's been in there for ages: no one wanted her for some reason."

"I wonder why," Astrid muttered, as they set off towards the Leaky Cauldron.

They found Mr Hofferson sitting in the bar, reading the _Daily Prophet_.

"Hiccup!" he said, smiling as he looked up. "How are you?"

"Fine, thanks," said Hiccup, as he, Astrid and Ragnar joined Mr Hofferson with all their shopping.

Mr Hofferson put down his paper, and Hiccup saw the now familiar picture of Alvin the Treacherous staring up at him.

"They still haven't caught him, then?" he asked.

"No," said Mr Hofferson, looking extremely grave. "They've pulled us all off your regular jobs at the Ministry to try and find him, but no luck so far."

"I wonder is we'll get a reward if we caught him," said Astrid.

"Don't get your hopes up, dear," said Mr Hofferson, who on closer inspection looked very strained. "Alvin's not going to be caught by a thirteen-year-old Valkyrie. It's the Azkaban gurads who'll get him back, you mark my words."

At that moment Mrs Hofferson entered the bar, laden with shopping and followed by the twins, Double and Trouble, who were about to start their fifth year at Berk, the newly elected Head Boy, Sven, and the Hofferson's youngest child, Ripper.

Ripper, who had always wanted Hiccup to be a part of their family, seemed even more nervous than usual when he saw him, perhaps because he had saved his life during their last term at Berk. He went very red and muttered "hello" without looking at him. Sven, however, held out his hand solemnly as though he and Hiccup had never met and said, "Hiccup. "Hoe nice to see you."

"Hello, Sven," said Hiccup, trying not to laugh.

"I hope you're well?" said Sven pompously, shaking hands. It was rather like being introduced to the mayor.

"Very well, thanks—"

"Hiccup!" said Double, elbowing Sven out of the way and bowing deeply. "Simply _splendid_ to see you, old friend—"

"Marvellous," said Trouble, pushing Double aside and seizing Hiccup's hand in turn. "Absolutely wonderful."

Sven scowled.

"That's enough, now," said Mrs Hofferson.

"Mum!" said Double, as though he'd only just spotted her, and seized her hand, too. "How really exciting to see you—"

"I said, that's enough," said Mrs Hofferson, depositing her shopping in an empty chair. "Hello, Hiccup, dear. I suppose you've heard our exciting news?" She pointed at the brand-new silver badge on Sven's chest. "Second Head Boy in the family!" she said, swelling with pride.

"And last," Double muttered under his breath.

"I don't doubt that," said Mr Hofferson, frowning suddenly. "I notice they haven't made you two prefects."

"What do we want to be prefects for?" said Trouble, looking revolted at the very idea. "It's take all the fun out of life."

Astrid giggled.

"You want to set a better example to your sister!" snapped Mrs Hofferson.

"Astrid's got other brothers to set her an example, Mother," said Sven loftily. "I'm going up to change for dinner…"

He disappeared and Trouble heaved a sigh.

* * *

"We tried to shut him in Hamish the Seconds cavern," he told Hiccup. "But Mum spotted us."

Dinner that night was very enjoyable affair. Tola the Innkeeper put three tables together in the parlour and the seven Hoffersons, Hiccup and Ragnar ate their five delicious courses.

"How're we getting to King's Cross tomorrow, Dad?" asked Double, as they tucked into a sumptuous chocolate pudding.

"The Ministry's providing a couple of cars," said Mr Hofferson.

Everyone looked up at him.

"Why?" said Sven curiously.

"It's because of you, Sven," said Trouble seriously. "And there'll be little flags on the bonnets, with HB on them—"

"—for Humungous Bighead," said Double.

Everyone except Sven and Mrs Hofferson snorted into their pudding.

"Why are the Ministry providing cars, Father?" Sven asked again, in a dignified voice.

"Well, as we haven't got one anymore," said Mr Hofferson, "and as I work there, they're doing me a favour…"

His voice was casual, but Hiccup couldn't help noticed that Mr Hofferson's ears had gone red, just like Ripper's did when he was under pressure.

"Good job, too," said Mrs Hofferson briskly. "Do you realise how much luggage you've all got between you? a nice sight you'd be on the Muggle Underground… You are all packed, aren't you?"

"Ripper hasn't put all his new things in his trunk yet," said Sven, in a long-suffering voice. "He's dumped them on my bed."

"You'd better go and pack properly, Ripper, because we won't have much time in the morning," Mrs Hofferson called down the table.

Ripper scowled at Sven.

After dinner everyone felt very full and sleepy. One by one they made their way upstairs to their rooms to check their things for the next day. Ripper and Sven were next to Hiccup and Astrid rooms. Hiccup had just closed and locked his own trunk when he heard angry voices through the wall and went to see what was going on.

When he reached number twelve, he found that Astrid had walked out of number thirteen as well.

"You heard it to, huh," she said.

"A bit difficult to miss isn't it," said Hiccup.

They found that number twelve's door was ajar and Sven was shouting.

"It was _here_, on the bedside table, I took it off for polishing—"

"Like you don't polish it enough," Ripper muttered.

"What's up?" said Hiccup.

"My Head Boy badge has gone," said Sven, rounding on Hiccup.

"Well, I've lost Scabbers' Rat Tonic," said Astrid crossing her arms. "I think I might've left it in the bar. Hiccup, can you get it for me while I try and calm these two down."

"Sure," said Hiccup, and he went downstairs.

Hiccup was halfway along the passage to the bar, which was now very dark, when he heard more angry voices coming from the parlour. A second later, he recognised them as Mr and Mrs Hofferson's. He hesitated, not wanting them to know he'd heard them rowing, when the sound of his own name made him stop, then move closer to the parlour door.

"…make no sense not to tell him," Mr Hofferson was saying heatedly. "Hiccup's got a right to know. I've tried to tell Fudge, but he insists on treating Hiccup like a child. He's thirteen years old and—"

"Arnbjorn, the truth would terrify him!" said Mrs Hofferson shrilly. "Do you really want to send Hiccup back to Berk with that hanging over him? For the love of Odin, he's _happy_ not knowing!"

"I don't want to make him miserable, I want to put him on his guard!" retorted Mr Hofferson. "You know what Hiccup and Astrid are like, wandering off by themselves—they've ended up in Raven's Point twice! But Hiccup mustn't do that this year! When I think what could have happened to him that night he ran away from home! If the Dragon Night Bus hadn't picked him up, I'm prepared to bet he would have been dead before the Ministry found him."

"But he's _not_ dead, he's fine, so what's the point—"

"Ingrid, they say Alvin the Treacherous' mad, and maybe he is, but he was clever enough to escape from Azkaban, and that's supposed to be impossible. It's been three weeks, and no one's seen hide nor hair of him, and I don't care what Fudge keeps telling the _Daily Prophet_, we're no near catching Alvin than inventing self-spelling crystal eyes. The only thing we know for sure is what Alvin's after—"

"But Hiccup will be perfectly safe at Berk."

"We thought Azkaban was perfectly safe. If Alvin can break out of Azkaban, he can break into Berk."

"But no one's really sure that Alvin's after Hiccup—"

There was a thud on wood, and Hiccup was sure Mr Hofferson had banged his fist on the table.

"Ingrid, how many times do I have to tell you?" They didn't report it in the press because Fudge wanted it kept quiet, but Fudge went out to Azkaban the night Alvin escaped. The guards told Fudge that Alvin's been talking in his sleep for a while now. Always the same words: "He's at Berk… he's at Berk." Berk is deranged, Ingrid, and he wanted Hiccup dead. If you ask me, he thinks murdering Hiccup will bring the Dragon Lord back to power. Alvin lost everything the night Hiccup stopped the Dragon Lord, and he's had twelve years alone in Azkaban to brood on that…"

There was a silence. Hiccup leaned still closer to the door, desperate to hear more.

"Well, Arnbjorn, you must do what you think is right. But you're forgetting Heyral the Wise. I don't think anything could hurt Hiccup at Berk while Heyral is headmaster. I suppose he knows about all this?"

"Of course he knows. We had to ask him if he minds the Azkaban guards stationing themselves around the land bridge to the mainland. He wasn't happy about it, but he agreed."

"Not happy? Why shouldn't he be happy, if they're there to catch Alvin?"

"Heyral isn't fond of the Azkaban guards," said Mr Hofferson heavily. "Nor am I, if it comes to that… but when you're dealing with a Viking like Alvin, you sometimes have to join forces with those you'd rather avoid."

"If they save Hiccup—"

"—then I will never say another word against them," said Mr Hofferson wearily. "It's late, Ingrid, we'd better go up…"

Hiccup heard chairs move. As quietly as he could, he hurried down the passage to the bar and out of sight. The parlour door opened, and a few seconds later footsteps told him that Mr and Mrs Hofferson were climbing the stairs.

The bottle of rat tonic was lying under the table they had sat at earlier. Hiccup waited until he heard Mr and Mrs Hofferson's bedroom door was close, the headed back upstairs with the bottle.

Double and Trouble were crouching in the shadows on the landing, heaving with laughter as they listened to Sven dismantling his and Ripper's room in the search for his badge.

"We've got it," Double whispered to Hiccup. "We've been improving it."

The badge now read _Bighead Boy_

Hiccup forced a laugh, went to give Astrid the rat tonic, then shut himself in his room and lay down on his bed.

So Alvin the Treacherous was after him. That explained everything Fudge had been lenient with him because he was so relieved to find him alive. He'd made Hiccup promise to stay in Diagon Alley where there plenty of Vikings to keep an eye on him. And he was sending two Ministry cars to take them all to the station tomorrow, so that the Hoffersons could look after Hiccup until he was on the train.

Hiccup lay listening to the muffled shouting next door and wondered why he didn't feel more scared. Alvin the Treacherous had murdered thirteen people with one Fire Curse; Mr and Mrs Hofferson obviously thought Hiccup would be panic-stricken if he knew the truth. But Hiccup happened to agree whole-heartedly with Mrs Hofferson that the safest place on Midgard was wherever Heyral the Wise happened to be. Didn't people always say that Heyral was the only person Drago Bludvist had ever been afraid of? Surely Alvin, as Drago's right-hand man, would be just as frightened of him?

And then there were Azakaban guards everyone kept talking about. They seemed to scare most people senseless, and if they were stationed all around Berk, Alvin's chances of getting inside seemed remote.

No, all in all, the thing that bothered Hiccup most was the fact that his chances of visiting Berksmeade now looked like zero. Nobody would want Hiccup to leave the safety if the fort until Alvin was caught; in fact, Hiccup suspected his every move would be carefully watched until the danger had passed.

He scowled at the dark ceiling. Did they think he couldn't look after himself? He'd escaped Drago Bludvist three times, he wasn't completely useless. Granted the last time they met he was an inch from death.

"I'm _not_ going to be murdered," Hiccup said out loud.

"That's the spirit, dear," said his mirror sleepily.


	5. The Dementor

Tola woke Hiccup next morning with his usual toothless grin and a cup of coffee. Hiccup got dressed and was just persuading a disgruntled Sharpshot to get back in his cage when Astrid banged his way into the room looking irritable.

"The soon we get on the train, the better," she said. "At least we'll be able to get away from Sven at Berk. Now he's accusing Ripper of dripping coffee on his photo of Clearwater Puddleson. You know," Astrid grimaced, "his _girlfriend_. She's hidden her face under the frame because her nose has gone all blotchy…"

"I've got something to tell you," Hiccup began, but they were interrupted by Double and Trouble, who were looking for Ripper so they could to congratulate him on infuriating Sven again.

They headed down to breakfast, where Mr Hofferson was reading the front page of the _Daily Prophet_ with a furrowed brow and Mrs Hofferson brought Astrid over to her and began to tell her about a Love Potion she'd made as a young girl. The two of them were rather giggly.

Hiccup shook his head and sat next to Ragnar and began to dig into his breakfast.

"What were you saying?" Astrid asked, once she freed herself from her mother.

"Later," Hiccup muttered, as Sven stormed in.

Hiccup had no chance to speak to Astrid or Ragnar in the chaos of leaving; they were too busy heaving all their trunks down the Leaky Cauldron's narrow staircase and piling them up near the door, with Sharpshot, Amber and Hermod, Sven's brown scaled Terrible Terror. Amber didn't seemed to like being in her cage, because she kept nibbling at the bars with fury in her eyes.

"It's all right, Amber," said Ragnar calmly. "I'll let you out on the train."

"You won't," snapped Astrid. "What about poor Scabbers, eh?"

She pointed to her satchel.

Mr Hofferson, who had been outside waiting for the Ministry cars, stuck his head inside.

"They're here," he said. "Hiccup, come one."

Mr Hofferson marched Hiccup across the short stretch of pavement towards the first of two old-fashioned dark green cars, each of which was driven by a furtive-looking Vikings, wearing very smart emerald clothing.

"In you get, Hiccup," said Mr Hofferson, glancing up and down the crowded street.

"Hiccup got into the back of the car, and was shortly joined by Ragnar, Astrid and, to Astrid disgust, Sven.

The journey to King's Cross was very uneventful compared to Hiccup's trip on the Knight Bus. Then Ministry of Magic cars seemed almost ordinary, thought Hiccup noticed that they could slide through gaps that Uncle Magnus' new company car certainly couldn't have managed. They reached King's Cross with twenty minutes to spare; the Ministry drivers found them trolleys, unloaded their trunks, touched their helmets to Mr Hofferson and drove away, somehow managed to jump to the head of an unmoving queue for the traffic lights.

Mr Hofferson kept close to Hiccup's elbow all the way into the station.

"Right, then," he said, glancing around them. "Let's do this in pairs, as there are so any of us. I'll go through first with Hiccup."

Mr Hofferson strolled towards the barrier between platforms nine and ten, pushing Hiccup's trolley and apparently very interested in the InterCity 125 that had just arrived at platform nine. With a meaningful look at Hiccup, leaned casually against the barrier. Hiccup imitated him.

Next moment, they had fallen sideways through the solid metal onto platform nine and three-quarters and looked up to see the Berk Express, a scarlet steam engine, puffing smoke over a platform packed with Vikings and Valkyries seeing their children onto the train.

Sven and Ripper suddenly appeared behind Hiccup. They were panting, and had apparently taken the barrier at a run,

"Ah, there's Clearwater!" said Sven, smoothing his hair and going pink again. Ripper caught Hiccup's eye and they both turned away to hide their laughter as Sven strode over to the girl with long, curly hair, walking with his chest thrown out so that she couldn't miss his shiny badge.

Once the remaining Hofferson and Ragnar had joined them, Hiccup and Mr Hofferson led the way to the end of the train, past packed compartments, to a carriage that looked quite empty. They loaded the trunks onto it, stowed Sharpshot and Amber in the luggage rank, then went back outside to say goodbye to Mr and Mrs Hofferson.

Mrs Hofferson kissed all her children, then Ragnar, and finally Hiccup. He was embarrassed, but really quite pleased, when she gave him an extra hug.

"Do take care, won't you, Hiccup?" she said as she straightened up, her eyes oddly bright. Then she opened her satchel and said, "I've made you all sandwiches. Here you are, Astrid… no, they're not corned beef… Double? Where's Double? Here you are, dear…"

"Hiccup," said Mr Hofferson quietly, "come over here a moment."

He jerked his head towards a pillar, and Hiccup followed him behind it, leaving the others crowded around Mrs Hofferson.

"There's something I've got to tell you before you leave—" said Mr Hofferson, in a tense voice.

"Is it to warn me that mad murderous barbarian, known as Alvin the Treacherous, is after me and wants to kill me?" said Hiccup calmly.

Mr Hofferson just stared at him. "How did you know?"

"I—uh—I heard you and Mrs Hofferson talking last night. I couldn't help hearing," Hiccup added quickly. "Sorry—"

"That's not the way I'd have chosen for you to find out," said Mr Hofferson, looking anxious.

"No—honestly, it's okay. This way, you haven't broken your word to Fudge and I know what's going on."

"Hiccup, you must be very scared—"

"I'm not," said Hiccup sincerely. "_Really_," he added, because Mr Hofferson was looking disbelieving. "I'm not trying to be a hero, but seriously, Alvin the Treacherous can't be worse than Drago Bludvist, can it?"

"Hiccup, I knew you were, well, stronger and more strong willed than Fudge seems to think, and I'm obviously pleased that you're not scared, but—"

"Arnbjorn!" called Mrs Hofferson, who was now shepherding the rest onto the train. "Arnbjorn, what are you doing? It's about to go!"

"He's coming, Ingrid!" said Mr Hofferson, but he turned back to Hiccup and kept talking in a lower and more hurried voice. "Listen, I want you to give me your word—"

"—that I'll be a good boy and stay in the castle?" said Hiccup gloomily.

"Not entirely," said Mr Hofferson, who looked more serious than Hiccup had ever seen him. "Hiccup, swear to me you won't go _looking_ for Alvin and no matter what you hear you won't take it out on your _friends_."

Hiccup stared. "What?"

There was a loud whistle. Guards were walking along the train slamming all the doors shut.

"Promise me, Hiccup," said Mr Hofferson, talking more quickly still, "that whatever happens—"

"Why would I go looking for someone I know wants to kill me?" said Hiccup blankly. "And why I take anything I might hear on my friends."

"Swear to me that whatever you might hear—"

"Arnbjorn, quickly!" cried Mrs Hofferson.

Steam was billowing from the train; it had started to move. Hiccup ran to the compartment door and Astrid threw it open and stood back to let him on. They leaned out of the window and waved at Mr and Mrs Hofferson until the train turned a corner and blocked them from view.

"I need to talk to you in private," Hiccup muttered to Astrid and Ragnar as the train picked up speed.

"Go away, Ripper," said Astrid.

"Oh, that's nice," said Ripper huffily, and he stalked off.

Hiccup, Astrid and Ragnar set off down the corridor, looking for an empty compartment, but all were full except for the one at the very end of the train.

This only had one occupant, a man sitting fast asleep next to the window. Hiccup, Astrid and Ragnar checked on the threshold. The Berk Express was usually reserved for students and they had never seen an adult there before, except for the Valkyrie who pushed the food trolley.

The stranger was dressed as if he was a sailor, but his clothing was shabby and darned in several places. He looked ill and exhausted. He looked around about fifty, his dark brown hair and beard were flecked with grey hairs.

"I wonder who he is?" Astrid hissed, as they sat down and slid the door shut, taking seat furthest away from the window.

"Johann the Wonderer," said Ragnar.

"Let me guess, you recognised him from a book."

"No, it's on his trunk," replied Ragnar, pointing at the luggage rack over the man's head, where there was a small, battered trunk held together with a large quantity of neatly knotted string. The name "Johann the Wonderer" was stamped across one corner in peeling letters.

That name was familiar to Hiccup, but he could quite remember where he heard it.

Astrid looked slightly embossed. "Wonder what he teaches?" she said, frowning at Johann the Wonderer's pallid profile.

"That obvious," whispered Ragnar. "There's only one vacancy, isn't there? Combat Arts."

Hiccup, Astrid and Ragnar had already had two Combat Arts teachers, both of whom had only lasted one year.

There were rumours that the job was cursed.

"Well, I hope he's up to it," said Astrid doubtfully. "He looks like one good hex would finish him off, doesn't he? Anyway…" he turned to Hiccup, "what were you going to tell us?"

Hiccup explained all about Mr and Mrs Hofferson's argument and the warning Mr Hofferson had just given him. When he'd finished, Astrid had her hand over her mouth, and Ragnar looked thunderstruck.

"So, Alvin the Treacherous escaped to come after _you_?" said Ragnar.

"That amount sums it up," said Hiccup.

"I don't know why my dad thinks you'll go after Alvin," said Astrid puzzled. "You're not that stupid."

"Thanks, Astrid," Hiccup muttered.

"Still like to know how he escaped Azakaban," said Astrid. "I mean no one has ever escaped there before. And he was a top-security prisoner, too."

"Hopefully they'll catch him," said Ragnar crossing his arms. "I mean, the Muggles are on the look for him, too…"

"What's that noise?" said Astrid suddenly.

A faint, tinny sort of whistle was coming from somewhere. They looked all around the compartment.

"It's coming from your trunk, Hiccup," said Astrid, standing up and reaching into the luggage rack. A moment later she pulled the Pocket Sneakoscope out from between Hiccup's cloths. It was spinning very fast in the palm of Astrid's hand, and glowing brilliantly.

"Is that a _Sneakoscope_?" said Ragnar interestedly, standing up for a better look.

"Yeah… but it's a very cheap one," Astrid said. "It went haywire just as I was tying it to Errol's leg to send it to Hiccup."

"Were you doing anything untrustworthy at the time?" said Ragnar shrewdly.

"No! Well… I wasn't supposed to be using Errol. You know he's not really up to long journeys… but how else was I supposed to get Hiccup's present to him?"

"Stick it back in the trunk," Hiccup advised, as the Sneakoscope whistled piercingly, "or it'll wake him up."

He nodded toward Johann. Astrid stuffed the Sneakoscope into a particularly horrible pair of Uncle Magnus' old socks, which deadened the sound, then closed the lid of the trunk on it.

"We could get it checked in Berksmeade?" asked Ragnar keenly. "I've heard it's the only entirely non-Muggle settlement in Britain."

"Yeah, I think it is," said Astrid in an offhand sort of way, "but that's not why I want to go. I just want to get inside Honeydukes!"

"What's that?" said Ragnar.

"It's this sweetshop," said Astrid. "I've heard they sell every kind of sweet there."

"I read in _Sites of Historical Sorcery_ it says the inn was the headquarters for 1612 dwarf rebellion, and the Shrieking Shack's supposed to be the most severely haunted building in Britain."

"There also the pub called the _Green Dragon_ and it serves the best Butterbeer in the entire world," said Astrid licking her lips.

"Won't it be nice to get out of the academy for a bit and explore Berksmeade?"

"I bet it will," said Hiccup heavily. "You'll have to tell me when you've found out."

"What do you mean?" said Astrid.

"Did you think my aunt and uncle would fill the form after what happened with Aunt Helga?"

"_You're not allowed to come?_ But—maybe Phlegma or someone will give you permission—"

Hiccup gave a hollow laugh. Phlegma the Fierce might be the head of Gryffindor house and was his mother's best friend, but she was very strict.

"Listen I've already asked Fudge is he would sign it, but he said no," said Hiccup.

"Well, then maybe we can ask Double and Trouble, they know every secret passage out of the fort—"

"Astrid!" said Ragnar sharply. "I want to have Hiccup join us as much as you do, but with Alvin the Treacherous on the loose—"

"But if _we're_ with him—"

"Astrid, Alvin murdered a whole bunch of people in the middle of a crowed street," Ragnar reminded her. "I doubt Alvin would think twice about murdering us if we're with him."

He was fumbling with Amber's cage as he spoke.

"Don't let that thing out!" Astrid said, but too late; Amber flew out of her cage and flew down onto the Astrid knees, eyeing Astrid's satchel, Astrid satchel began to move and she shoved Amber angrily away.

"Get it out of here!"

"Astrid!" said Ragnar angrily.

Astrid was about to answer back when Johann stirred. They watched him apprehensively, but he simply turned his head the other way, mouth slightly open, and slept on.

The Berk Express moved steadily north and the scenery outside the window became wilder and darker while the clouds overhead thickened. People were chasing backwards and forwards past the door of their compartment. Amber had now settled in an empty seat her eyes looking at Astrid's satchel.

At one o'clock the plump Valkyrie with the food trolley arrived at the compartment door.

"Do you think we should wake him up?" Astrid asked awkwardly, nodding towards Johann. "He looks like he could do with some food."

Ragnar approached Johann cautiously.

"Uh—Sir?" he said.

He didn't move.

"Don't worry, dear," said the Valkyrie, as she handed Hiccup a large stack of cauldron cakes. "If he's hungry when he wakes, I'll be up front with the driver."

"I suppose he _is_ asleep," Astrid whispered, as the Valkyrie slid the compartment door closed. "I mean—he hasn't died, has he?"

"Don't be ridiculous, he's breathing," said Ragnar quietly, taking the cauldron cake Hiccup passed him.

He might not be very good company, but Johann's presence in their compartment had its uses. Mid-afternoon, just as it had started to rain, blurring the rolling hills outside the window, they heard footsteps in the corridor again, and their three least favourite people appeared at the door: Snotlout Jorgenson, flanked by his cronies, Dogbreath Goylson and Clueless Morson.

Snotlout and Hiccup had been enemies ever since they had met on their first train journey to Berk. Snotlout, who had proud, sneering face, was in Slytherin house; he played Seeker on the Slytherin Dragon Race teak, the same position that Hiccup played on the Gryffindor team. Dogsbreath and Clueless seemed to exist to do Snotlout's bidding. They were both wide and muscly; Dogsbreath was taller and very thick necked; Clueless had gormless face with gorilla arms.

"Well, look who it is," said Snotlout in his usual sneering voice, pulling open the compartment door. "Useless."

Dogsbreath and Clueless chuckled trollishly.

He then looked Astrid and tried to act all cool. "Oh, hey baba, didn't see you there. I heard your loser father finally got his hands on some gold this, summer," he said. "You know my offer still stands."

Astrid stood up so quickly he knocked Amber's cage to the floor. Johann gave a snort.

"Who's that?" said Snotlout, taking an automatic step backwards as he spotted Johann.

"New teacher," said Hiccup, who was helping Ragnar to hold Astrid back. "What were you saying, Snotlout?"

Hiccup knew as thick as Snotlout was, he wasn't fool enough to pick a fight right under a teacher's nose.

"C'mon," he muttered resentfully to Dogsbreath and Clueless, and they disappeared.

Once they were gone, Astrid managed to calm herself down and all three of them sat back done. Though Astrid was still massaging her knuckles.

"If he says one more thing to disrespect my family, I'll feed him to his own dragon," she said angrily.

"Careful, Astrid," said Ragnar. "We don't want to get into trouble before we get to the academy."

The rain thickened as the train sped yet further north; the windows were now solid, shimmering grey, which gradually darkened until lanterns flickered into life all along the corridors and over the luggage racks. The train rattled, the rain hammered, the wind roared, but still, Johann slept.

"We must be nearly there," said Astrid leaning forward to look past Johann at now completely black windows.

The words had hardly left her when the train started to slow down.

"We can't be here already," said Astrid confused, getting up and walking carefully past Johann to try and see outside.

"She's right," said Ragnar, checking his watch.

"So why're we stopping?"

The train was getting slower and slower. As the noise of the pistons fell away, the wind and rain sounded louder than ever against the windows.

Hiccup, who was nearest the door, got up to look into the corridor. All along the carriage, heads were sticking curiously out of their compartments.

The train came to a stop with a jolt and distant thuds and bangs told them that luggage had fallen out of the racks. Then, without warning, all the lamps went out and they were plunged into total darkness.

"What's going on?" said Ragnar voice from behind Hiccup.

"Ouch!" gasped Astrid. "Rag, that was my foot!"

Hiccup felt his way back to his seat.

"Do you think we've broken down?"

"I don't know…"

There was squeaking sound, and Hiccup saw the dim black outline of Astrid, wiping a patch clean on the window and peering out.

"There's something moving out there," Astrid said. "I think people are coming abord…"

The compartment door suddenly opened and someone fell painfully over Hiccup's leg.

"Sorry! Do you know what's going on? Ouch! Sorry—"

"Hello, Fishlegs," said Hiccup, feeling around in the dark and helped Fishlegs up.

"Hiccup? Is that you? What's happening?"

"No idea! Sit down—"

There was a loud roar and a yelp of pain; Fishlegs had tried to sit on Amber.

"I'm going to go and ask the driver what's going on," came Ragnar's voice. Hiccup felt him pass him, heard the door slide open again and then a thud and two loud yelps of pain.

"Who's that?"

"Who's _that_?"

"Ripper?"

"Ragnar?"

"What are you doing?"

"I was looking for Astrid—"

"Come in and sit down—"

"Not here!" said Hiccup hurriedly. "I'm here!"

"Ouch!" said Fishlegs.

"Quiet!" said a hoarse voice suddenly.

Johann appeared to have woken up at last. Hiccup could hear movements in his corner. None of them spoke.

Suddenly bright blue light filled the compartment. Johann speared to be holding a ball of pure blue light. The light illuminated his tired face, but his eyes looked alert and wary.

"Stay where you are," he said, in the same hoarse voice, and he got slowly to his feet with his handful of blue light out in front of him.

But the door slid slowly open before Johann could reach it.

Standing in the doorway, illuminated by the blue light in Johann's hand, was a cloaked figure that towered to the ceiling. Its face was completely hidden beneath its hood. Hiccup's eyes darted downwards, and what he saw made his stomach contract. There was a hand protruding from the cloak and it was glistening, greyish, slimy-looking and scabbed, like something dead that had decayed in water…

It was visible only for a split second. As though the creature beneath the cloak sensed Hiccup's gaze, the hand was suddenly withdrawn into the folds of the black material.

And then the thing beneath the hood, whatever it was, drew a long, slow, rattling breath, as though it was trying to suck something more than air from its surroundings.

An intense cold swept over them all. Hiccup felt his own breath catch in his chest. The cold went deeper than his skin. It was inside his chest, it was inside his very heart…

Hiccup's eyes rolled up into his head. He couldn't see. He was drowning in cold. There was a rushing in his ears as though of water. He was being dragged downwards, the roaring growing louder…

And then, from far away, he heard screaming, terrible, terrified, pleading screams. He wanted to help whoever it was, he tried to move his arms, but couldn't… a thick bright white light was swirling around him, inside him—

"Hiccup! Hiccup! Are you all right?"

Someone was slapping his face.

"W-what?"

Hiccup opened his eyes. There were lanterns above him, and the floor was shaking—the Berk Express was moving again and the lights had come back on. He seemed to have slid out of is sear onto the floor. Astrid and Ragnar were kneeling nest to him, and above them he could see Fishelgs and Johann watching. Hiccup felt very sick; when he placed his hand on his forehead, he felt cold swear on it.

Astrid and Ragnar heaved him back onto his seat.

"Are you okay," Astrid asked worriedly.

"Yeah," said Hiccup, looking quickly towards the door. The hooded creature had vanished. "What happened? Where's that—that thing? Who screamed?"

"No one screamed," said Ragnar nervously.

Hiccup looked around the bright compartment. Ripper and Fishlegs looked back at him, both very pale.

"But I heard screaming—"

A loud snap made them all jump. Johann was breaking an enormous slab of chocolate into pieces.

"Here," he said to Hiccup, handing him a particularly large piece. "Eat it. It'll help."

Hiccup took the chocolate but didn't eat it.

"What was that thing?" he asked Johann.

"A Dementor," said Johann, who was now giving chocolate to everyone else. "A demon of despair and misery. It, like its brethren, guards Azkaban."

Everyone stared at him. Johann crumpled up the empty chocolate wrapper and put it in his pocket.

"Eat," he repeated. "It'll help. I need to speak to the driver, excuse me…"

He strolled past Hiccup and disappeared into the corridor.

"Are you sure you're okay, Hiccup?" said Astrid, watching Hiccup anxiously.

"I don't get it… what happened?" said Hiccup, wiping more sweat off his face.

"Well—that thing—the Dementor—stood there and looked around (I mean, I think it did, I couldn't see its face)—and you—you—"

"I don't know what happened, but you were sweating like mad," said Ragnar, who still looked scared. "You went sort of rigid and fell out of your sear and started twitching—"

"And Johann stepped over you, and walked towards the Dementor, and pulled out a dagger," said Astrid. "And he said 'None of us is hiding Alvin the Treacherous under our capes. Go' But the Dementor didn't move, so Johann sent bright white light at it, and it turned round and sort of glided away…"

"It was horrible," said Fishlegs, in a higher voice than usual. "Did you feel how cold it went when it came in?"

"I know," said Ragnar, shifting hid shoulder uncomfortably. "I felt like I'd never be cheerful again…"

Ripper, who was huddling in his corner looking nearly as bad as Hiccup felt, gave a small sob; Astrid went over and put a comforting arm around him.

"But didn't any one of you—fall off your seat?" said Hiccup awkwardly.

"No," said Ragnar, looking anxiously at Hiccup again. "Ripper was shaking like mad, though…"

Hiccup didn't understand. He felt weak and shivery, as though he was recovering from a bad bout of flu; he also felt the beginnings of shame. Why had he gone to pieces like that, when no one else had?

Johann had come back. He paused as he entered, looking around and said, with a small smile, "I haven't poisoned that chocolate, you know…"

Hiccup took a bite and to his great surprise felt warmth spread suddenly to the tips of his fingers and toes.

"We'll be at Berk in ten minutes," said Johann. "Are you all right, Hiccup?"

Hiccup didn't ask how Johann knew his name.

"Fine," he muttered, embarrassed.

They didn't talk much during the remainder of the journey. At long last, the train stopped at Berksmeade station, and there was a great scramble to get out, Terrible Terrors were heard roaring within their cages. Hiccup could sensation on his right forearm and knew his Gryffindor tattoo was being to appear. It was freezing on the tiny platform, beckoning the terrified-looking new students forward for their traditional journey across the lake.

"All righ', you three?" Gobber yelled over the heads of the crowd.

They waved at him, but no chance to speak to him because the mass of people around them was shunting them away along the platform. Hiccup, Astrid and Ragnar followed the rest of school out onto a rough mud track, where at least a hundred stagecoaches awaited the remaining students, each pulled, Hiccup could only assume, by either invisible horses or invisible dragons, because when they climbed inside one and shut the door, the coach set off all by itself, bumping and swaying in procession.

The coach smelled faintly of mould and straw. Hiccup felt better since the chocolate, but still weak. Astrid and Ragnar kept looking at him sideways, as though frightened he might collapse again.

As the carriage trundled towards a pair of magnificent wrought iron gates, flanked with stone columns topped with stone dragons, Hiccup saw two more towering hooded Dementors, standing guard on either side. A wave of cold sickness threatened to engulf him again; he leaned back into the lumpy seat and closed his eyes until they had passed through the gates. The carriage picked up speed as they rode on the land bridge that connected from the mainland to the fort, which only appears once a week. Astrid was leaning out of the tiny window, watching the many turrets and towers draw nearer. At last, the carriage swayed to a halt just outside the small Viking village, and Astrid and Ragnar got out.

As Hiccup stepped down, a drawling, delighted voice sounded in his ear.

"You _fainted_, Useless? Is Fishlegs the Jellylegs telling the truth? You actually _fainted_?"

Snotlout elbowed past Ragnar to block Hiccup's way up the pathway to the village, his face gleeful and his blue eyes glinting maliciously.

"Great lost, Snotlout," said Astrid, who was cracking her knuckles.

"See, baba, I warned you," said Snotlout loudly. "You can do a whole lot better than him. I mean if he gets frightened by a single Dementor, then it only shows how weak he is."

"Is there a problem?" said a mild voice, Johann had just got out of the next carriage.

Snotlout gave Johann an insolent stare, which took in the patched on his clothes and the dilapidated trunk. With a tiny hint of sarcasm in his voice, he said, "Oh, no—uh—_Sir_," then he smirked at Dogsbreath and Clueless, and led them up the steps into the village.

Ragnar prodded Astrid in the back to make her hurry, and the three of them joined the crowd swarming across the pathway. They then began to climb up the stone steps that land to the Great Hall.

The giant oak front doors of the Great Hall stood open. Hiccup followed the crowd towards it, but had barely glimpsed the enchanted ceiling, which was black and cloudy tonight, when a voice called, "Haddock! Keatson! I want to see you both!"

Hiccup and Ragnar turned around, surprised. Phlegma the Fierce, Transfiguration Master and head of Gryffindor house, was calling over the heads of crowd. She was a stern looking Valkyrie who wore her hair in a tight bun under her helmet; her sharp eyes could sense trouble a mile away. Hiccup fought his way over to her feeling of foreboding; Phlegma had a way of making him feel he must have done something wrong.

"There's no need to look so worried—I just want a word in my house," she told them. "Move along there, Miss Hofferson."

Astrid stared as Phlegma ushered Hiccup and Ragnar away from the chattering crowd; they accompanied her down the steps that land to the mountain and walked into the village blow.

Once they were in her house, a large room along with a large, welcoming fire, Phlegma motioned Hiccup and Ragnar to sit down. She settled herself behind her desk and said abruptly, "Johann sent a Terrible Terror ahead to say that you were taken ill on the train, Haddock."

Before Hiccup could reply, there was a soft knock on the door and Flora the Botanist, Herbology Master and Healer of Berk, came bustling in.

Hiccup was now getting very annoyed. It was bad enough that he'd passed out, or whatever he had done, without everyone making all this fuss.

"I'm fine," he said calmly. "I don't need anything—"

"Why I'm not surprised that's it's you," said Flora, shaking her head and looked at him closely. "I suppose you've been doing something dangerous again?"

"It was a Dementor, Flora," said Phlegma.

They exchanged a dark look and Flora looked very disapprovingly.

"Setting Dementors around a school," she muttered, pushing Hiccup's hair back and feeling his forehead. "He won't be the first one who collapses and won't be the last. Yes, he's all clammy. Terrible things, they are, and the effect they have on people who are already delicate—"

"I'm not delicate!" said Hiccup crossly.

"Of course you're not," said Flora absent-mindedly, now taking his pulse.

"What does he need," said Phlegma crisply. "Bed rest? Should he perhaps spend tonight in the healing centre?"

"I'm _fine_!" said Hiccup jumping up. The idea of what Snotluot would say if he had to go to the healing centre was torture.

"Well, he should have some chocolate, at the very least," said Flora, who was now trying to peer into Hiccup's eyes.

"I've already had some." said Hiccup. "Johann gave me some. He gave it to all of us."

"Did he, now?" said Johann approvingly. "He always was able to deal with dark creatures. I'm surprised Heyral didn't ask him to be the Combat Arts Master sooner."

Hiccup looked up. So Flora knew him and from the way Phlegma had mentioned his name it sounded as though she knew him as well. The question was where did they met.

"Are you sure you feel all right, Haddock?" said Phlegma sharply, bring Hiccup out of his thoughts.

"What? Oh, yes," said Hiccup.

"Very well. Kindly wait outside while I have a quick word with Mr Keatson about his timetable, then we can go down to the feast together.

Hiccup went back outside with Flora, who was already making her way to mountain. He only had to wait a few minutes; then Ragnar emerged looking very happy about something, followed by Phlegma, and the three of them made their way up the stone steps to the Great Hall.

It was a sea of metal helmets; each of the long house tables that stood in front of the four, different coloured, statues of the Founders of Berk was lined with students, their faces glimmering by the light of thousands of torches, which were floating over the tables in mid-air. Flitwick the Charmer, who was tiny little Viking with a shock of white hair, was carrying an ancient helmet and a three-legged stool out of the hall.

"Looks like we've missed the Sorting!" said Ragnar.

New students at Berk were sorted into houses by trying on the Sorting Helmet, which shouted out the house they were best suited to (Gryffindor, Ravenclaw, Hufflepuff or Slytherin). Phlegma strode off towards her empty seat at the staff table, which stood in front of a huge red, blue, yellow and green or Hiccup ancestor and name sake Hiccup Horrendous Haddock I, and Hiccup and Ragnar set off in the other direction, as quietly as possible, towards the Gryffindor table. People looked around at them as they passed along the back of the hall, and a few of them pointed at Hiccup. Had the story of him collapsing in front of the Dementor travelled that fast?

He and Ragnar sat down on either side of Astrid, who had saved them seats/

"What was all that about?" she muttered to Hiccup.

Hiccup started to explain in a whisper, but at that moment the Headmaster stood up to speak, and he broke off.

Heyral the Wise, though very old, always gave an impression of great energy. He had several feet of long silver hair and beard, his right hand was replaced with axe prosthetic and his eyes looked as if they could read your mind with just a simple glance. He was often described as the greatest Viking of the age, but that wasn't why Hiccup respected him. You couldn't help trusting Heyral the Wise, and as Hiccup watched him beaming around at the students, he felt really calm for the first time since the Dementor had entered the train compartment.

"Welcome!" said Heyral, the torchlight shimmering on his beard. "Welcome to another year at Berk! I have a few things to say to you all, and as one of them is very serious, I think it best to get it out of the way before you become befuddled by our excellent feast…"

Heyral cleared his throat and continued. "As you will all be aware after their search of the Berk Express, our academy is presently playing host to some of the Dementors of Azkaban, who are here on Ministry of Magic business."

He paused, and Hiccup remembered what Mr Hofferson had said about Heyral not being happy with the Dementors guarding the Berk.

"They are stationed at the entrance to Berk and are patrolling around the lake," Heyral continued, "and while they are with us, I must make it plain that nobody is to leave the academy without permission. Dementors are not to be fooled by tricks or disguises—or even Invisibility Capes," he assed blandly, and Hiccup and Astrid glanced at each other. "It is not in the nature of a Dementor to understand pleading or excuses. I therefore warn each and every one of you to give them no reason to harm you. I look to the Prefects, and our new Head Boy and Girl, to make sure that no student runs foul of the Dementors."

Sven, who was sitting a few seats along from Hiccup, puffed out his chest again and stared around impressively. Heyral paused again; he looked very seriously around the hall, and nobody moved or made a sound.

"On a happier note," he continued, "I am pleased to welcome our new Combat Arts teacher, Johann the Wonderer."

there was some scattered, rather unenthusiastic, applause. only those who had been in the compartment on the train with Johann clapped hard, Hiccup among them. Johann looked particularly shabby next to all the other teachers in their best cloths..

"Look at Grabbit!" Astrid hissed in Hiccup's ear.

Grabbit the Grim, the Potions Master, was staring along the staff table at Johann. It was common knowledge that Grabbit wanted the Combat Arts job, but even Hiccup, who hated Grabbit, was startled at the expression twisting his thin, sallow face. It beyond anger: it was loathing. Hiccup knew that expression only too well; it was the look Grabbit wore every time he set eyes on Hiccup.

"Well, I think that's everything of importance," said Heyral. "Let the feast begin!"

The golden plates and goblets before them filled suddenly with food and drink. Hiccup suddenly ravenous, helped himself to everything he could reach and began to eat.

It was a delicious feast; the Hall echoed with talk, laughter and the clatter of knives and forks. Hiccup, Astrid and Ragnar, however, were eager for it to finish so that they could talk to Gobber. Gobber wasn't a fully qualified Viking; he had ben expelled from Berk in his third year, for a crime he had not committed. It had been Hiccup, Astrid and Ragnar who had cleared Gobber's name last year.

At long last, when the last morsels of yak ice-cream had melted from the golden patters, Heyral gave the word that it was time for them all to go to bed, and they got their chance.

"After ya three cleared my name, I've been aloud to use magic freely," said Gobber.

"No sweet, Gobber," said Ragnar.

"But to warn you I won't be showing any favouritism ter you three," said Gobber.

"We won't have it any other way, Gobber," said Hiccup smiling.

Soon Phlegma shooed them away.

Hiccup, Astrid and Ragnar joined the Gryffindors streaming up the marble staircase and, very tired now, along more corridors, up more and more stairs, to the hidden entrance to the Gryffindor Common Room. A large portrait of a fat Valkyrie asked them, "Password?"

"Coming through, coming through!" Sven called from behind the crowd. "The new password's _Daring Viking_?"

"Oh no," said Fishlegs sadly. He always had trouble remembering the passwords.

Through the portrait hole and across the common room, the girls and boys divided towards their separate staircases. Hiccup climbed the spiral stairs with no thought in his head except how glad he was to be back. They reached their familiar, circular dormitory with five wooden beds and Hiccup, looking around, felt he was home at last.


	6. Spines and Chicken Bones

When Hiccup, Astrid and Ragnar entered the Great Hall for breakfast next day, the first thing they saw was Snotlout, who seemed to be entertaining a large group of Slytherins with a very funny story. As they passed, Snotlout did a ridiculous impression of a swooning fit and there was a roar of laughter.

"Ignore him," said Ragnar, who was right behind Hiccup.

"Easier said than done," said Hiccup.

"Hey, Useless!" shrieked Rubbella Parkinson, a Slytherin girl with a face like a pug. "Useless! The Dementors are coming, Useless! _Woooooooo_!"

Hiccup dropped into a seat at the Gryffindor table, next to Trouble.

"New third-year timetables," said Trouble, passing them over. "What's up with you, Hic?"

"One word, Snotlout," said Astrid, sitting down on Trouble's other side and glaring over at the Slytherin table.

Trouble looked up in time to see Snotlout pretending to faint with terror again.

"That muffin head," he said calmly. "He wasn't so cocky last night when the Dementors were down our end of the train. Came running into our compartment, didn't he, Double?"

"Aye, he nearly soiled himself," said Double, with a contemptuous glance at Snotlout.

"I wasn't too happy myself," said Trouble. "They're horrible things, those Dementors…"

"Sort of freeze your inside, don't they?" said Double.

"You didn't pass out, though, did you?" said Hiccup in a low voice.

"Forget it, Hiccup," said Trouble bracingly. "Dad had to go out to Azkaban one time, remember, Double? And he said it was the worst place he'd ever been. He came back all weak and shaking… They suck the happiness out of a place, Dementors. Most of the prisoners go mad in there."

"Anyway, we'll see how happy Snotlout looks after our first Dragon Racing match," said Double. "Gryffindor versus Slytherin, first game of the season remember?"

The only time Hiccup and Snotluot had faced each other in a Dragon Racing match, Snotlout had definitely come off worse. Feeling slightly more cheerful, Hiccup helped himself to a chicken wing."

Ragnar was examining his new timetable.

"Looks like we're staring are new subjects today," he said.

"Uh, Rag," said Astrid, frowning as she looked over his shoulder, "they've messed up your timetable. Look—they've got you down for about ten subjects a day. There isn't enough _time_."

"Don't worry about me. I've fixed it all with Phlegma."

"But look," said Astrid, confused, "see this morning? Nine o'clock Soothsaying. And underneath, nine o'clock, Muggle Studies. And—" Astrid leaned closer to the timetable, disbelieving, "_look_—underneath that, Arithmancy, _nine o'clock_. I mean, I know you're good, Rag, but no one's _that_ good. How're you supposed to be in three classes at once?"

"Don't be ridiculous," said Ragnar shortly. "Of course I won't be in three classes at once?"

"Well then—"

"Just pass me the jug," said Ragnar.

"But—"

"Astrid, what's it to you if my timetable's a bit full?" Ragnar snapped. "I told you, I've fixed it all with Phlegma."

Just then, Gobber entered the Great Hall. He was hobbling along with some thick leather over his shoulders.

"All righ'?" he said eagerly, pushing on the way to the staff table. "Yer in my firs' lesson of the year! Right after lunch! Bin up since five getting' everythin' ready…"

He grinned broadly at them and headed off to the staff table, still carrying the leather on his shoulder.

"Wonder what he's getting ready?" said Astrid ,curiously.

The Hall was starting to empty as people headed off towards their first lesson. Astrid checked her timetable.

"We'd better go, look, Soothsaying's at the very top of the mountain. It'll take us ten minutes to get there…"

They finished their breakfast hastily, said goodbye to Double and Trouble and walked back through the hall. As they passed the Slytherin table, Snotlout did yet another impression of a fainting fit. The shouts of laughter followed Hiccup into the Entrance Hall.

The journey through the mountain to the top of its peak to longer than Astrid said it would. Two years at Berk hadn't taught them everything about the fort, and they had never been up on the mountains peak before.

"There's—got—to—be—a—short—cut," Hiccup panted, as they climbed their seventh long staircase and emerged on an unfamiliar landing, where there was nothing but a large painting of a bare stretch of a mountain side handing on the stone wall.

"I think it's this way," said Ragnar, peering down the empty passage to the right.

"Can't be," said Astrid. "That corridor leads downwards."

Hiccup watched the painting. A purple scaled Gronckle had just ambled onto the mountain side and was eating a big chunk out of it. Hiccup was used to the subject of Berk painting moving around and leaving their frames to visit each other, but he always enjoyed watching them. A moment later, a short, squat Viking solider had appeared into the picture after his Gronckle. By the look of the bruised legs, he had just fallen off.

"Aha!" he yelled, seeing Hiccup, Astrid and Ragnar. "What villains are these that trespass upon my private lands! Come to scorn at my fall, perchance? Well, pull your weapon out you mutton heads!"

They watched in astonishment and amusement as the little Viking solider pulled out a large battle axe and began swing it around violently, hopping up and down in rage. But the axe was too heavily for him; one of his wild swings made him overbalance, and he landed face down in the grass.

"Uh, are you all right?" said Hiccup, moving closer to the picture.

"Get back, you fool! Back I'm warning you!"

The Viking solider seized his battle axe again and used it to push himself back up, but the blade wedged itself in an open crack on the floor and, though he pulled with all his might, he couldn't get it out again. Finally he had to flop back down onto the floor and removed his helmet to wipe the sweat off his brow.

"Astrid, you talk to him," said Hiccup.

Astrid didn't seem to like the idea, but walked up to the picture frame anyway.

"We're sorry to trespass, sir," said Astrid with a smile that was obviously killing her, "but we're looking for a way to get onto the mountain peak. You don't know the way, do you?"

The Viking solider looked up at Astrid and quickly stood up. He then began to flatten his hair to make himself more presentable and placed his helmet back on his head.

"Anything to help a beautiful your maid like yourself," said the Viking solider giving him a short bow.

He gave the axe another fruitless tug, tried and failed to mount the Gronckle, and cried, "On foot then, my fellow soldiers and young maid."

And he ran into the left hand side of the frame and out of sight.

They hurried after him along the corridor, following the sound of his war cries. Every now and then they spotted him running through a picture ahead.

"Don't give into fear, the worst is yet to come!" yelled the Viking solider, and they saw him reappear in front of an alarmed group of women in Viking dresses, whose picture hung on the wall of a narrow, spiral staircase.

Puffing loudly, Hiccup, Astrid and Ragnar climbed the tightly spiralling steps, getting dizzier and dizzier, until at last they heard the murmer of voices above them, and knew they had reached the classroom.

"Farewell, milady!" cried the Viking solider, popping his head into a painting of some sinister-looking priests. "If ever you have need of my services, call upon Cadogan the Gallant!"

"Don't worry I will," muttered Astrid, as the Viking solider disappeared, "Hopeful that'll never happen."

They climbed the last few steps and emerged onto a tiny landing, where most of the lass was already assembled. There was no doors off this landing; Astrid nudged Hiccup and pointed at the ceiling where there was a circular trap door with a brass plague on it.

"Gothi the Elder, Soothsaying Master," Hiccup read. "How're we supposed to get up there?"

As though in answer to his question, the trap door suddenly opened, and a silvery ladder descended right at Hiccup's feet. Everyone went quiet.

"After you," said Astrid, grinning, so Hiccup climbed the ladder first.

He emerged outside in the cold wind. There wasn't much, but the wooden platform he was on and an old shack opposite him. Then he noticed above him were Terrible Terror of all colours flying around. He saw an opened fire that was burning away and barrel full of what Hiccup thought to be were chicken bones.

Astrid appeared at Hiccup's shoulder as the class assembled around them, all talking in whispers.

"Where is she?" Astrid said.

Suddenly the shack's door opened and began to pour out smoke. Every turned as the smoke went around their ankles.

What Hiccup saw next made all the hairs on the back of his neck stand up. Gothi was short, old Valkyrie who looked even older than Heyral the Wise, if that was possible, there thick deep wrinkles on her face and her hair was sliver. In her hand she carried a staff that had her crystal eye imbedded in it.

She looked at the class, which were feeling very nervous, and banged her staff on the floor. Next second smoke appeared out of the staff and poured into her mouth.

"Welcome," she said in a, soft, misty voice. "You must excuse the smoke. After my last battle with the Dragon Lord I had lost the use of my voice. So, I have to use my Smoke Magic to speak."

Hiccup wasn't sure what was more alarming, that this old lady fought Drago or that she had to use her magic to speak.

"Now, my dear, sit in front of the fire and we'll begin," said Gothi, and they call moved to the fire and sat around it. The fire was nice and warm, and they could even tell if the wind was blowing or not.

"Welcome to Soothsaying," said Gothi, who was the only one still standing. "I am Gothi the Elder. You may not have seen me before. In my old age it is not easy to move around as it once was. But I keep a close eye on everyone with my Inner Eye."

Nobody said anything in answer to this extraordinary pronouncement. "So you all wish to study the art of Soothsaying, the most difficult of all magical arts. I must warn you in order to learn you must keep an open mind. I'm also afraid that books will only take you so fat in this field…"

At these words, both Hiccup and Astrid glanced, grinning, at Ragnar, who looked slightly nervous that book wouldn't be much help in this subject.

"Many Vikings and Valkyries, talented though they are in the area of fighting skill, dragon riding or magic, are yet unable to penetrate the veiled mysteries of the future," said Gothi went on, looking at all the nervous faces. "And I can see many great young Viking and Valkyries that'll make a big impact on the world. You, my dear," she said suddenly to Fishlegs, who was shaking like a leaf, "I see that you'll find the courage to stand up for your friends."

"Are you sure," said Fishlegs now sounding even more nervous.

"I'm never wrong my dear," she said with a small smile. She then turned to Ragnar. "Ah, you my dear have a powerful aura and with your wisdom you'll help those who need guides." Ragnar didn't say a thing, but looked slightly unsure.

Gothi then looked at Astrid. "Now you my dear have a great fire in your heart and with that fire you'll help save those you care about."

Gothi then looked at Hiccup, gave him a knowing look, and turned to face the class. "Now this year we'll be covering the basic methods of Soothsaying. The first term will be reading the cracks with in chicken bones. Next term we shall be studying omens," said Gothi. "Then in the summer term will be trying to look for shapes with fire. Oh, and if I'm seeing the signs right around Thor's day one of our number will leave us forever."

A very tense silence followed this pronouncement, but Gothi seemed unaware of it.

"Now, I want you all to divide into pairs. Collect a chicken bone with in the barrel and place it in the fire here," she said gesturing to the fire in front of them, "then wait about five minutes and give the bone to your partner to read. You will interpret the patterns using pages five and six of _Unfogging the Future._ I shall be helping and instructing."

Everyone began to choose chicken bones from the barrel and tossed them into the fire. From here Hiccup was sitting it looked extremely difficult trying to figure out what the cracks in the bones meant and from the looks of it everyone was having that trouble.

When it was finally Hiccup and Astrid turn they selected their chicken bones and approached the fire. Astrid went first and tossed the bone into the fire. Five minutes later Gothi pulled the bone out and handed it to Hiccup.

"Right," said Astrid, as they both opened their books at pages five and six. "What does my bone say?"

"We'll it's not very talkative at the moment," said Hiccup.

"Focus, dear," said Gothi.

"Right, this crack looks like a wonky sort of cross…" Hiccup said, consulting _Unfogging the Future_. "That means you're going to have 'trails and suffering'—but this crack here looks like the sun. And that means 'great happiness'… so in short you're going to suffer but be very happy…"

"I think your Inner Eye needs a pair of glasses or something," said Astrid trying not to laugh.

"Let me have a look my dears," said Gothi and looked at Astrid bone. "Well, my dear, if I'm reading this right you will indeed suffer a great loss, but that loss will be replaced with someone loving and caring."

Many of the girls went _aww_. But Hiccup was more focused on Gothi. Was it hid imagination or was Gothi looking at him when she said _someone loving and caring_.

"Okay, your turn Hiccup," said Astrid, who was trying not to blush.

Hiccup pulled out of his thoughts and tossed his bone into the flames. Then something strange happened, his bone began to crack immediately began to crack and the next minute it exploded.

Everyone gasped and turned to Gothi, who looked as stunned as they were.

"Wh—what does that mean?" Hiccup asked her.

Gothi looked at Hiccup fearfully and said, "It means, my dear… that you have a great enemy."

"Three guess who," said Ragnar in a loud whisper. Gothi glared at him.

"Sorry, but it true," said Ragnar. "I mean everyone knows about Hiccup and the Dragon Lord."

"Yes, but this goes deeper," said Gothi. "Because young Hiccup here is going to face a dangerous trail and will walk on a dangerous path…"

Everyone was staring, transfixed, at Gothi, who looked at all the broken bone pieces.

"There something else isn't there," said Hiccup.

"Trust me dear, knowledge isn't always power, it's also a burden," said Gothi.

"What is it," said Tuffnut at once. Everyone had got to their feet, and slowly, they crowded around Hiccup and Astrid, trying to get a better look at the bone pieces on the floor.

"Oh, very well," said Gothi. "I see that your first dangerous trail involves a large black dog. The Signpost of Valhalla."

He could tell that he wasn't the only one who didn't understand; Tuffnut and Ruffnut looked clueless as ever, and Agatha Berdis looked puzzled, but nearly everybody else clapped their hands to their mouths in horror."

"What's the Signpost of Valhalla?" Hiccup asked,

"The Signpost of Valhalla, my dear, is the worst omen—the omen of _death_!" Gothi said. "To those who have claimed to have seen it, say it takes the form of a giant, spectral dog."

Hiccup's stomach lurched. That dog on the cover of _Death Omens_ in Flourish and Blotts—the dog in the shadows of Magnolia Crescent… Agatha Berdis clapped her hands to her mouth, too. Everyone was looking at Hiccup; everyone except Ragnar, who was looking at the bone pieces.

"Are you sure it's a Signpost of Valhalla," he said flatly to Gothi.

Gothi chuckled and said, "My dear, if you keep looking for facts you'll never get anywhere in this subject." Then she turned back at the bone pieces. "Still you could be right. Soothsaying isn't always accurate."

"Has everyone finished deciding whether I'm going to die or not?" said Hiccup, taking even himself by surprise. Now nobody seemed to want to look at him.

"I think we will leave the lesson here for today," said Gothi, in her mistiest voice. "Yes… please pack away your things…"

Silently the class packed their books and closed their bags. Even Astrid was avoiding Hiccup's eyes.

"Until we meet again," said Gothi faintly.

* * *

Later at lunch in the Great Hall, Hiccup couldn't help but think about what Gothi had said and Astrid was still not talking to him.

"Astrid, I've never seen you like this," Ragnar said at last. "Since when do you get scared?"

"I'm not scared!" said Astrid loudly. Then she looked her sandwich and said, quietly, "I'm just worried about Hiccup."

"Astrid, you heard what Gothi said," said Ragnar.

Astrid took a bit out of her sandwich.

"Hiccup," she said, in a low serious voice, "you _haven't_ seen a great black dog anywhere, have you?"

"Uh—yeah, I have," said Hiccup. "I saw one the night I left the Dalssons."

Astrid then dropped her sandwich.

"I could have been a stray," said Ragnar calmly.

Astrid looked at Ragnar as though he had gone mad.

"Ragnar, the Signpost of Valhalla only shows itself to brave warriors that are about to die," she said. "My—my Uncle Finn saw one and—and he died fighting against a Flightmare!"

"Oh, come on," said Ragnar rolling his eyes, taking a sip of yak milk.

"Rag, I'll admit that I thought that it was an old wives tale," Astrid admitted. "But none I'm not so sure."

"I though dying was an occupational hazard for us Vikings and Valkyries," said Ragnar. "Besides me and my mum saw a big black dog in our garden and we're still alive."

"You did when?" Hiccup asked.

"Just a few days after we returned from our holiday," said Ragnar offhandedly. "That only proves the fact that the Signpost of Valhalla is a old wives tale."

Astrid shook her head in disbelief at Ragnar, who opened his satchel, took out his new Arithmancy book and propped it open against the milk jug.

"Personally, I think Soothsaying isn't too important," he said, searching for his page. "A lot of guesswork mostly."

"I think finding out about the Signpost of Valhalla is important," said Astrid hotly.

"You said it yourself that the Signpost of Valhalla was an old wives tale," said Ragnar coldly.

"Well, Gothi said you have to keep an open mind and that you wouldn't get the subject if you kept on looking for facts!"

"Well, maybe I don't get it and maybe I won't be studying the subject much longer! I have more important subjects like my Arithmancy class!"

He snatched up his satchel and stalk away.

Astrid frowned after him.

"What's he talking about?" she said to Hiccup. "He hadn't been to an Arithmancy class yet."

* * *

Hiccup was pleased to get out of the mountain after lunch. Yesterday's rain had cleared; the sky was a clear. Pale grey and the grass was springy and damp underfoot as they set off for their first ever Forging class.

Astrid and Ragnar weren't speaking to each other. Hiccup walked beside them in silence as they went down the sloping lawns to Gobber's workshop on the edge of the fort. It was only when he spotted three only-too-familiar backs ahead of them that he realised they must be having these lessons with the Slytherins. Snotlout was talking animatedly to Dogsbreath and Clueless, who were chortling. Hiccup was quite sure he knew what they were talking about.

Gobber was waiting for his class at the door of his workshop. He stood proudly, with Grump his Hotburple sleeping near the forge, looking impatient to start.

"C'mon, now, get a move on!" he called, as the class approached. "Get behind eh worktables! Now I expert that yeh've read yeh books—"

"And how do we do that?" said the snarling voice of Snotlout.

"Didn't ya try ter read them with yeh dragon-skin gloves?" Gobber asked. "It plainly says at the back of the cover 'must be read with dragon-skin gloves'."

"Uh, no," said Snotlout dumbly. "But what stopped idiot designed a book that could burn your skin off."

"The author," said Gobber plainly. He then looked at the class. "Wait, here there's one thing I need ter get before we can start the lesson."

Gobber then exited the workshops and out of sight.

"By the gods, this place is going to the dogs," said Snotlout loudly. "That oaf teaching classes, my father will have a fit when I tell him—"

"Then why did you wanted to do the class?" Hiccup asked.

"Careful, Useless, there's a Dementor behind you—"

"Watch it Snotlout," said Gobber voice. They looked around and saw Gobber had returned with a serpent like dragon which to Hiccup reminded him of the Screaming Death, "ya might find Slytherin will have a few less points."

"Gobber, what that?" Astrid asked.

"Oh, it's Whispering Death," said Fishlegs eagerly.

Then Hiccup realised why this dragon reminded him of a Screaming Death. It was a distant cousin to it. The Whispering Death was almost identical to the Screaming Death, only it was smaller, its head was round, its eyes were milky white and its scales were green.

"Correct Fishlegs. He's name is Groundspitter," said Gobber. "Now raise yeh hand if yeh've had experience with a Whispering Death?"

Nobody moved a musical.

Gobber sighed. "Thought as much. That idiot Flashburn was supposed to teach you about them last year, but on well."

"Mind telling us what is so important about a Whispering Death?" Snotlout asked dully.

"We'll yeh're going to be making a saddle for old Groundspitter here," said Gobber. Everyone looked up immediately. But then he added, "Just a plane saddle." Everyone sighed in disappointment.

"Now firs' thing yeh gotta know abou' saddles is that ya have ter make sure it suited ter the dragons needs," said Gobber. "Also when it comes to Whispering Deaths the lasting ya want ter do is to insult them. "It might be the last thing yeh do."

Snotlout, Dogsbreath and Clueless weren't listening; they were talking in an undertone and Hiccup had a nasty feeling they were plotting how best to disrupt the lesson.

"A saddle also has ter be perfectly balanced, nothing unnecessary added. Now everything ya need should be on yeh worktables, I'll be wonderin' around advising. Turn to pages three and four in yeh book ter give ya some idea on the making of a saddle. Yeh'll have half an hour on yeh saddles starting—now!"

The next half an hour was a blur to Hiccup. For some reason he found this very easy, he was like a machine. He hardly had to look at his book, _The Art of the _Master_ Forger_, at all.

"Okay, times up!" Gobber announced. "Let's see what yeh done."

Hiccup looked at his saddle and realised that it was practically finished. There were some loose ends here and there, but other than that it was okay. Looking at the saddles, he saw that only a hand full of the class had gotten as far as Hiccup, including Ragnar. Astrid didn't do too badly either, even the Thorston twins had done a good job, at least there had done better than Snotlout and his goon squared. There saddles just looked like a large lump of leather with straps poorly sworn on it.

"Righty ho, who wants ter go and put their saddle on Groundspitter here," said Gobber turning his back to bring Groundspitter forward.

Unknown to Hiccup everyone, including Astrid and Ragnar, had backed away. When Gobber looked back he saw Hiccup standing alone.

"Good man, Hiccup," said Gobber happily. Hiccup looked back and saw that everyone, apart from him, had backed away.

Knowing there was no way out of it, he took his saddle and approached the front. Most of the Gryffindors, including Fishlegs and Agatha Berdis, looked on nervously, knowing about Gothi's prediction about the Signpost of Valkyrie.

"Easy, now, Hiccup," said Gobber quietly, as Hiccup approached Groundspitter. "Yeh've got eye contact, now try not ter blink…"

Hiccup out stretched his hand and looked at Groundspitter's pale white eyes without blinking. Then Groundspitter moved forwards and placed his snort on the palm of Hiccup's hand.

"Well done, Hiccup!" said Gobber, ecstatic. "Right—yeh can put you saddle on him."

Hiccup, began to strap his saddle on Groundspitter's serpent like body. Once he finished strapping the saddle, he backed away and marvelled at his work.

"Not ter shabby, Hiccup," said Gobber examining the saddle carefully. "A few rough here and there, but impressive for a first attempt. Twenty points to Gryffindor!"

The Gryffindors cheered loudly, while the Slytherins just stood there sulking.

"Right, let's give it a test ride," said Gobber.

This was more than Hiccup had bargained for. He was used to riding dragons, but he rarely rode on any other dragon than Toothless.

Before he could protects, Gobber had picked him up and placed him on Groundspitter's back. "Go on then!" Gobber roared, slapping Groundspitter on what Hiccup guessed was his hindquarters.

Without warning, Groundspitter took off; Hiccup just had time to grabbed hold of his saddle before he was soaring upwards. Hiccup, loved this feeling, the wind in his hair, the cold air rushing into his face, but he normally rode with Toothless. This was different, but Hiccup just went with the flow with it.

Groundspitter flew him once around the fort and then headed back to the ground. Hiccup wasn't sure how this was going to end. Toothless had legs, Groundspitter did not. Hiccup closed his eyes, but felt nothing. When he opened them he saw they had landed safely to the ground.

"Good work, Hiccup!" roared Gobber, as everyone except Snotlout, Dogsbreath and Clueless cheered. "Okay, who else wants a go?"

Emboldened by Hiccup's success, the rest of the class brought their saddles cautiously to the front. Gobber inspected every saddle as they were placed on Groundspitter and would award points based on how good it was made. Fishlegs was awarded ten points, even despite the fact he backed away from Groundspitter when it looked at him. Ragnar had done a good enough job to earned fifteen points. Astrid's was good enough for ten points. And the Thorston twins earned five pointed between them. Hiccup watched as saddle after saddle was placed on Groundspitter.

But then it was Snotlout's turn. When he was about to place his poorly made on Groundspitter. The Whispering Death backed away, apparently knowing the saddle was poorly made.

"What's wrong with you?!" Snotlout yelled, loud enough for everyone to hear him. "If you like Useless' stupid saddle you're going to like mine!" he said to the Whispering Death. "You ugly great lump of dragon dung!"

It happened in a flash of steely spikes; Groundspitter fired several large spines from his body straight at Snotlout. He let out a high pitched scream and next moment, Gobber and Grump, who had woken up, were wrestling Groundspitter out of the workshop. After they accomplished that, Gobber approached Snotlout, who lay curled in the grass, blood blossoming over his arm.

"I'm dying!" Snotlout yelled, as the class panicked. "I'm dying, look at me! It's killed me!"

"Oh, don't make such a fuss, yer not dyin'!" said Gobber as he picked Snotlout up and looked at the class. "Class dismissed!"

As Gobber passed, Hiccup saw that there a long, deep gash in Snotlout's arm; blood splattered the grass and Gobber ran with him, into the village.

Very shaken, the Forging class followed at a walk. The Slytherins were al shouting about Gobber.

"They should sack him straight away!" said Rubbella Parkinson angrily.

"It was Snotlout's fault!" snapped Wartihog. Dogsbreath and Clueless flexed their muscles threateningly.

"Well, I think that was the best lesson ever!" cried Tuffnut.

"Yeah, it was cool!" Ruffnut agreed.

"You're not helping guys," said Hiccup.

"Well, I'm going to see if he's okay!" said Rubbella, and they all watched her run into the village. The Slytherins, still muttering about Gobber, headed up the stone steps to the Great Hall, not doubt returning to their common room; Hiccup, Astrid and Ragnar decided to return to their common room.

"Do you think he'll be all right?" said Ragnar.

"Of course he will, Flora was able to regrow my bones overnight," said Hiccup. "Snotlout's injury will only take her a second."

"Trust Snotlout to ruin everything," Astrid grumbled.

They were among the first to reach the Great Hall at dinner time. They saw Gobber heading to the staff table and quickly rushed to him.

"Are you all right Gobber?" Hiccup asked.

"I'm fine," said Gobber. "But Snotlout is sayin' he's still agony."

"He's faking it," said Hiccup at once.

"I know that, but it's not easy to prove," said Gobber. "The gov'nors have bin told and they think I should have used a dragon that yeh lot were taught about."

"It's all _Snotlout_'s fault!" said Astrid.

"Yeah, we're witnesses," said Ragnar. "You taught us how to handle a Whispering Death. It's not your fault that Snotlout didn't lesson."

"Thanks for the support," said Gobber, sniffing. "Anyway, I meant to tell ya this after the lesson."

"What?" they asked at the same time.

"I don't want you to visit me after dark," said Gobber. "At least not until Alvin's been caught."

"But he hasn't gone past the Dementors," said Hiccup.

"I know, but I'm not taking an risks with you Hiccup," said Gobber and then walked towards the staff table. "And that's final!"


	7. The Boggart in the Wardrobe

Gryffindors were halfway through double Potions. He swaggered into the dungeon, his right arm covered in bandages and bound up in a sling, acting, in Hiccup's opinion, as though he was the heroic survivor of some dreadful battle.

"How is it," Snotlout?" simpered Rubbella. "Does it hurt much?"

"Yeah," said Snotlout, putting on a brave snort of grimace. But Hiccup saw him wink at Dogsbreath and Clueless when Rubbella had looked away.

"Settle down, settle down," said Grabbit idly.

Hiccup and Astrid scowled at each other; Grabbit wouldn't have said "settle down" if _they_'d walked in late, he'd have given them detention. But Snotlout had always been able to get away with anything in Grabbit's classes; Grabbit was Head of Slytherin house, and generally favoured his own students before all others.

They were making a new potion today, a Shrinking Solution. Snotlout set up his cauldron right next to Hiccup and Astrid, so that they were preparing ingredients on the same table.

"Sir," Snotlout called, "sir, I'll need help cutting up these daisy roots, because of my arm—"

"Miss Hofferson, cut up Jorgenson's roots for him," said Grabbit, without looking up.

Astrid's went brick red.

"There's nothing wrong with your arm," he hissed at Snotlout.

Snotlout smirked across the table.

"Come on, baba you heard Grabbit, cut up these roots."

Astrid glared at him and seized her knife, pulled Snotlout's roots towards him and began to cut them, muttering something about sticking Snotlout's helmet up his bottom.

"And, sir, I'll need this Shrivelfig skinned," said Snotlout, his voice full of malicious laughter.

"Haddock, you can skin Snotlout's Shrivelfig," said Grabbit, giving Hiccup the look of loathing he always reserved just for him.

Hiccup took Snotlout's Shrivelfig as Astrid just finished cutting up the roots he was forced to cut. Hiccup skinned the Shrivelfig as fast as he could and flung it back across the table at Snotlout without speaking. Snotlout was smirking more broadly than ever.

"Seen your pal Gobber lately?" he asked quietly.

"None of your business," said Astrid jerkily, without looking up.

"I'm afraid he won't be a teacher much longer," said Snotlout, in a tone of mock sorrow. "Dad's not very happy about my injury—"

"Keep talking, Snotlout, and I'll give you a real injury," snarled Astrid.

"—he's complained to the school governors. _And_ to the Ministry of Magic. Dad's got a lot of influence, you know. And a lasting injury like this—" he gave a huge, fake sigh, "who knows if my arm will ever be the same again?"

"So that's why you're putting it on," said Hiccup, accidentally beheading a dead caterpillar because his hand was shaking in anger. "To try and get Gobber sacked."

"Well," said Snotlout, lowering his voice to a whisper, "_partly_, Useless. But there are other benefits, too. Baba, slice my caterpillars for me."

A few cauldrons away, Fishlegs was in trouble. Fishlegs regularly went to pieces in Potions lessons; it was his worst subject, meanly because he was so afraid of Grabbit that he always made mistakes. His potion, which was supposed to be a bright, acid green, had turned—

"Orange, Ingerman," said Grabbit, ladling some up and allowing it to splash into the cauldron, so that everyone could see. "Orange. Tell me, boy, does anything penetrate that thick skull of yours? Didn't you hear me say, quite clearly, that only one rat spleen was needed? Didn't I state plainly that a dash of leech juice would suffice? What do I have to do to make you understand, Ingerman?"

"Fishlegs was pink and trembling. He looked as though he was on the verge of tears.

"Please, sir," said Ragnar, "please, I could help Fishlegs put it right—"

"I don't remember asking you to show off, Keatson," said Grabbit coldly, and Ragnar turned red. "Ingerman, at the end of this lesson we will feed a few drops of this potion to your Terrible Terror and see what happened. Perhaps that will encourage you to do it properly."

Grabbit moved away, leaving Fishlegs breathless with fear.

"Help me!" he moaned to Ragnar.

"Hey, Hiccup," said Wartihog, leaning over to borrow Hiccup's brass scales, "have you heard? _Daily Prophet_ this morning—they reckon Alvin the Treacherous been sighted."

"Where?" said Hiccup and Astrid quickly. On the other side of the table Snotlout looked up, listening closely.

"Not too far from here," said Wartihog, who looked excited. "It was a Muggle who saw him. 'Course, she didn't really understand. The Muggles think he's just an ordinary criminal, don't they? So she 'phoned the telephone hotline. By the time the Ministry of Magic got there, he was gone."

"Not too far from here…" Astrid repeated, looking significantly at Hiccup. He turned around and saw Snotlout watching closely. "What, Snotlout? Need something else skinned?"

But Snotlout's eyes were shinning malevolently, and they were fixed on Hiccup. He leaned across the table.

"Thinking of trying to catch Alvin single-handed, Useless?"

"Yeah, that's right," said Hiccup offhandedly.

Snotlout's thin mouth was curving in a mean smile.

"Of course, if it was me," he said quietly, "I'd have done something before now. I wouldn't be staying in school like a good boy, I'd be out there looking for him."

"What are you talking about, Snotlout?" said Astrid roughly.

"Don't you _know_, Useless?" breathed Snotlout, his pale eyes narrowed.

"Know what?"

Snotlout let out a low, sneering laugh.

"Maybe you'd rather not risk your neck," he said. "Want to leave it to the Dementors, do you? But if it was me, I'd want revenge. I'd hunt him down myself."

"_What are you talking about_?" said Hiccup getting annoyed, but at that moment Grabbit called, "You should have finished adding your ingredients by now. This potion needs to stew before it can be drunk; clear away while it simmers and then we'll test Ingerman's…"

Dogsbreath and Clueless laughed openly, watching Fishlegs sweat as he stirred his potion feverishly. Ragnar was muttering instructions to him out of the corner of his mouth, so that Grabbit wouldn't see. Hiccup and Astrid packed away their unused ingredients and went to wash their hands and ladles in the stone basin in the corner.

"What did Snotlout mean?" Hiccup muttered to Astrid, as he stuck his hands under the icy jet that poured from the stone dragons' mouth. "Why would I want revenge on Alvin? He hasn't done anything to me—yet."

"He's making it up," said Astrid, savagely, "he's trying to make you do something stupid…"

The end of the lesson in sight, Grabbit strode over to Fishlegs, who was cowering by his cauldron.

"Everyone gather round," said Grabbit, his black eyes glittering, "and watch what happens to Ingerman's Terrible Terror. If he managed to produce a Shrinking Solution, it will shrink. If, as I don't doubt, he done it wrong, his Terrible Terror is likely to be poisoned."

The Gryffindors watch fearfully. The Slytherins looked excited. Grabbit picked up Iggy in his left hand, and dipped a small spoon into Fishlegs' potion, which was now green. He trickled a few drops down Fishlegs' throat.

There was a moment of hushed silence, in which Iggy gulped; then there was a small _pop_, and Iggy was now the size of a tadpole crawling around Grabbit's palm.

The Gryffindors burst into applause. Grabbit, looking sour, pulled a small bottle from the pocket of his leather vest, poured a few drops on top of Iggy and he reappeared suddenly, back to normal size.

"Five points from Gryffindor," said Grabbit, which wiped the smiles from every face. "I told you not to help, Keatson, Class dismissed."

Hiccup, Astrid and Ragnar climbed the steps to the Entrance Hall. Hiccup was still thinking about what Snotlout had said, while Astrid was seething about Grabbit.

"Five points from Gryffindor because the potion was all right! Why didn't you lie, Ragnar? You should've said Fishlegs did it all by himself!"

Ragnar didn't answer. Astrid looked around.

"Where did he?"

Hiccup turned, too. They were at the top of the steps now, watching the rest of the class pass them, heading for the Great Hall and lunch.

"He was right behind us," said Astrid, frowning.

Snotlout passed them, walking between Dogsbreath and Clueless. He smirked at Hiccup and disappeared.

"There he is," said Hiccup.

Ragnar was panting slightly, hurrying up the stairs; one hand was clutching his satchel, the other seemed to be tucking something down the front of his shirt.

"How did you do that?" said Astrid.

"What?" said Ragnar, joining them.

"One minute you were right behind us, and next moment, you were back at the bottom of the stairs again."

"What?" Ragnar looked slightly confused. "Oh—I had to go back for something. Oh no…"

A seam had split on Ragnar's satchel. Hiccup wasn't surprised; he could see that it was crammed with at least a dozen large and heavy books.

"Why are you carrying all these around with you?" Astrid asked him.

"You know very well how many subjects I'm taking," said Ragnar breathlessly. "Couldn't hold these for me, could you?"

"But—" Astrid turning over the books he had handed her, looking at the covers—"you haven't got any of these subjects today. It's only Combat Arts this afternoon."

"Oh, yes," said Ragnar vaguely, but he packed all the books back into his satchel just the same, "I hope there's something good for lunch, I'm starving," he added, and he matched off towards the Great Hall.

"Do you ever get the feeling you were a couple of steps behind Ragnar?" Astrid asked Hiccup.

"More like an entire staircase," said Hiccup baffled.

* * *

Johann wasn't there when they arrived at his first Combat Arts lesson. They all sat down around the arena, taking out their books, quills and parchment, and were talking when he finally entered the room.

What surprised them was that Grabbit was with him helping him carry a wardrobe into the arena. Hiccup noticed that Grabbit's eyes were glittering and there was a nasty sneer playing around his mouth.

When they finally placed the wardrobe down in the centre of the arena and Johann looked at Grabbit with a warming smile. "Thanks you for the help, Grabbit," he said. "Are you sure you don't want to stay?"

"I'm sure, Johann," said Grabbit with a sneer, walked past him. Just reached the entrance, he stopped and said, "Oh, possibly no one's warned you, Johann, but this class contains Fishlegs Ingerman. I would advise you not to entrust him with anything difficult. Not unless Keatson is hissing instructions in his ear."

Fishlegs went scarlet. Hiccup glared at Grabbit; it was bad enough that he bullied Fishlegs in his one classes, let alone doing it in front of other teachers.

Johann had raised his eyebrows.

"I was hoping that Fishlegs would assist me with the first stage of the operation," he said, "and I am sure he will perform it admirably."

Fishlegs face went, if possible, even redder. Grabbit's lip curled, but he left without saying a word.

"Now, then," said Johann said turning to class, who were still opened mouthed, "as you can see today will be a practical lesson. You will only need your crystal eyes and weapons."

A few curious looks were exchanged as the class put away their books. They had never had a practical Combat Arts before, unless you counted the memorable class last year when their old teacher let loose a Deadly Nadder that Astrid managed to train, but not before almost demolishing the arena.

Then Hiccup noticed that the wardrobe gave a sudden wobble, banging off the wall and from look everyone else was giving they'd noticed as well.

"Nothing to worry about," said Johann calmly, as few people jumped back away from it. "There's a boggart in there."

Most people seemed to feel that this _was_ something to worry about. Fishlegs gave Johann a look of pure terror, and Wartihog eyed the now tattling doorknob apprehensively.

"Boggarts like dark, enclosed spaces," said Johann. "I've seen them hide in the most unusual places during my travels, like in a grandfather clock. But they prefer wardrobes, the gap beneath beds, the cupboards under sinks and so one. _This_ one moved in yesterday afternoon, and I asked the Headmaster if the staff would leave it to give my third-years some practice.

"So, the first question we must ask ourselves is, what _is_ a Boggart?"

Ragnar raised his hand as expected, but what surprised him was that Astrid also had even her hand.

"Miss Hofferson, would you like to tell us?" said Johann and Ragnar dropped his hand looking a little disappointed.

"It's a shape-shifter," she said. "It can take the shape of whatever it thinks will frighten us most."

"Couldn't have put it better myself," said Johann. "So the Boggart sitting in the darkness within has not yet assumed a form. He does not yet know what will frighten the person on the other side of the door. Nobody knows what a Boggart looks like when he is alone, but when I let him out, he will immediately become whatever each of us most fears."

"This means," said Johann, choosing to ignore Fishlegs' small splutter of terror, "that we have a huge advantage over the Boggart before we begin. Have you spotted it, Hiccup?"

"Uh—because there are so many of us, it won't know what shape it should be?" said Hiccup hopefully.

"Bingo," said Johann. "It's always best to have company when you're dealing with a Boggart. He becomes confused. Which should he become, a headless corpse or a flesh-eating slug? I once saw a Boggart make that very mistake—tried to frighten two people at once and turned himself into half a slug. Not remotely frightening."

"The charm that repels a Boggart is simple, yet it requires force of mind. You see, the thing that really finishes a Boggart if _laughter_. What you need to do is force it to assume a shape that you find amusing. And this is where you come in, Fishlegs."

The wardrobe shook again, though not as much as Fishlegs, who walked forwards as though he was heading for the gallows.

"Right Fishlegs," said Johann. "First things first: what would you say is the thing that frightens you most in the world?

Fishlegs' lips moved, but no noise came out.

"Didn't catch that, Fishlegs, sorry," said Johann cheerfully.

Fishlegs looked around rather wildly, as though begging someone to help him, then said, in barely more than a whisper, "Grabbit the Grim."

Nearly everyone laughed. Even grinned apologetically. Johann chuckled in amazement.

"Grabbit the Grim… yes, he frightens all. I also believe you live with your grandmother?"

"Uh—yes," said Fishlegs nervously. "But—I don't want the Boggart to turn into her, either."

"No, no, you misunderstand me," said Johann, now smiling. "I wonder, could you tell us what sort of clothes your grandmother usually wears?"

Fishlegs looked startled, but said, "Well… always the same helmet. An old rusty one with large ram horns. And a long dress… green, normally… and sometimes a metal breastplate."

"And a bag?" prompted Johann.

"Made of Gronckle dragon skin," said Fishlegs.

"Right then," said Johann. "Can you picture those clothes very clearlt, Fislhegs? Can you see them in your mind's eye?"

"Yes," said Fishlegs uncertainly, plainly wondering what was coming next.

"When the Boggart bursts out of this wardrobe, Fishlegs, and sees you, it will assume the form of Grabbit," said Grabbit. "And you will raise that hammer of yours and concentrate hard on your grandmother's clothes. If all goes well, Boggart Grabbit will be forced into those very clothes you described."

There was a great shout of laughter. The wardrobe wobbled more violently.

"If Fishlegs is successful, the Boggart is likely to turn his attention to each of us in turn," said Johann. "I would like all of you to take a moment now to think of the thing that scares you most, and imagine how you might force it to look comical…"

The room went quiet. Hiccup thought… What scared him most in the world?

His first thought was Drago Bludvist—a Drago returning to full strength. But before he had even started to plan a possible counter-attack on a Boggart-Drago, a horrible image came floating to the surface of his mind…

A rotting, glistening hand, slithering back beneath a black cloak… a long, rattling breath from an unseen mouth… then a cold so penetrating if felt like drowning…

"Everyone ready?" said Johann.

Hiccup felt a lurch of fear. He wasn't ready. How could you make a Dementor less frightening? But he didn't want to ask for more time; everything else was nodding and rolling up their sleeves.

"Fishlegs, we're going to back away," said Johann. "Let you have a clear field, all right? I'll call the next person forward… everyone back, now, so Fishlegs can get a clear shot—"

They all retreated, backing against the walls, leaving Fishlegs alone beside the wardrobe. He looked pale and frightened, but he pulled out his stone hammer and took a battle stance.

"On the count of three, Fishlegs," said Johann, who was pointing his dagger at the handle of the wardrobe. "One—two—three—_now_!"

A jet of sparks shot from the end of Johann's dagger and hit the doorknob. The wardrobe burst open. Hook-nosed and menacing, Grabbit stepped out, his eyes flashing at Fishlegs.

Fishlegs backed away his hammer shaking in his fat hand. Grabbit was bearing down upon him, pulling out his sword.

Fishlegs closed his eyes and there was a noise like a whip-crack. Grabbit stumbled; he was wearing a long dress with a breastplate fitted on it and an old rusted helmet with large ram horns, and swinging satchel had of dragon-skin.

There was a roar of laughter; the Boggart paused, confused, and Johann shouted, "Agatha! Forward!"

Agatha walked forward, her face set. Grabbit rounded on her. There was another crack, and where he stood was an ugly orc; his ugly face was turned to Agatha and he began to walk towards her, looking very menacing, rising his arms rising—

Agatha pulled out her spear and pointed at the Orc.

The orc's feet were suddenly warped by string and when he moved his leg, the orc fell face first onto the floor.

"Wartihog!" roared Johann.

Wartihog darted past Agatha.

_Crack_! Where the Orc had been was an elf, he was tall like the wood-elves, but unlike them he his skin was black as ash and his hair was silver as snow—a dark-elf. He looked straight at Wartihog and charged at him.

Wartihog held his mace up.

Suddenly a brick wall appeared and the dark-elf slammed straight into it.

_Crack_! The dark-elf turned into a rat, which chased its tail in a circle, then—_Crack_!—becoming a wild boar, which snorted before—_Crack_!—becoming a single tusk.

"It's confused!" shouted Johaan. "We're getting there! Tuffnut!"

Tuffnut hurried forward.

_Crack_! The tusk became a severed hand, which flipped over, and began to creep along the floor like a crab.

Tuffnut smiled and point his spear at it.

There was a snap, and the hand was trapped in a mousetrap.

"Excellent! Ragnar, you next!"

Ragnar leapt forward.

_Crack_!

Quite a few people screamed. A giant wasp, six feet tall and hovering above them, flicking its sting menacingly. For a moment, Hiccup thought Ragnar had frozen. Then—

Ragnar pointed his sword at it, and the wasp's wings vanished and its legs had roller-skates on. It rolled uncontrollably on the floor and fell down a few tips. Then it found itself at Hiccup's feet, who pulled his own sword out, but—

"Here!" shouted Johann suddenly hurrying forward.

_Crack_!

The skating wasp had vanished. For a second, everyone looked wildly around to see where it was. Then they saw a silvery-white orb hanging in the air in front of Johann, who raised his dagger lazily.

_Crack_!

"Forward, Fishlegs, and finish him off!" said Johann, as the Boggart landed on the floor as a cockroach. _Crack_! Grabbit was back. This time Fishlegs charged, with hammer in hand, forward looking determined.

Suddenly Grabbit was back in his dress for about a split second before Fishlegs lout out a great "Ha!" of laughter, and the Boggart exploded, burst into a thousand tiny wisps of smoke, and was gone.

"Excellent!" cried Johann, as the class broke into applause. "Excellent, Fishlegs. Well done, everyone. Let me see… five points to Gryffindor for every person to tackle the Boggart—ten for Fishlegs because he did it twice—and five each to Astrid and Hiccup."

"But I didn't do anything," said Hiccup.

"You and Astrid answered my questions correctly at the start of the class, Hiccup," Johann said lightly. "Very well, everyone, an excellent lesson. Homework, kindly read the chapter on Boggarts and summarise it for me… to be handed in on Monday. That will be all."

Talking excitedly, the class went to collect their bags. Hiccup, however, wasn't feeling cheerful. Johann had deliberately stopped him tackling the Boggart. Why? Was it because he'd seen Hiccup collapse on the train, and thought he wasn't up to much? Had he thought Hiccup would pass out again?

But no one else seemed to have noticed anything.

"Did you see me take that dark-elf?" shouted Wartihog.

"And the hand!" said Tuffnut, waving his spear around like a madman.

"And Grabbit in that dress!"

"And my orc!"

"I wonder why Grabbit's frightened of orbs of light?" said Ruffnut.

"Why are you scared of wasps?" Astrid asked Ragnar.

"Not just wasp, but bees and hornets," said Ragnar. "I was about ten year old, my mum took me to visit this castle and while we were looking around I got stung. Ever seen then I've been afraid of them."

"Still, it was the must Combat Arts lesson we've ever had," said Astrid as they picked up their bags. "I wish I could have had turn with the Boggart—"

"What would it have been for you," said Ragnar, sniggering, as they left the arena. "You acting all girly?"

Astrid then responded by punching Ragnar hard in the chest.


	8. Flight of the Fat Valkyrie

In no time at all, Combat Arts had become most people's favourite class. Only Snotlout and his gang of Slytherins had anything bad to say about Johann.

"Look at the state of his clothes," Snotlout would say in a loud whisper as Johann passed. "He dresses like our old house-elf."

But no one else cared that Johann's clothes were patched and frayed. After Boggarts, they studied Goblins, nasty dwarf-like creatures that lurked wherever there had been bloodshed, waiting to kill and steal those who had got lost. From Goblins they moved on to Kappas, creepy water-dwellers that looked like scaly monkeys, with webbed hands itching to strangle unwitting waders in their ponds.

He also managed to bond everyone to dragon. Fishlegs made a bond with a female brown scaled Gronckle, who he called Meatlug. The twins bonded or fought over with a green scaled Hideous Zippleback, Ruffnut got the left that shot out gas and called him Barf, while Tuffnut got the right hand that ignited the gas and called him Belch.

Hiccup only wished he was as happy with some of his other classes. Worst of all was Potions. Grabbit was in a particularly vindictive mood these days, and no one was in any doubt way. The story of the Boggart assuming Grabbit's shape, and the way that Fishlegs had dressed it in his grandmother's clothes, had travelled through Berk like wildfire. Grabbit didn't seem to find it funny. His eyes flashed menacingly at very mention of Johann's name, and he was bullying Fishlegs worse than ever.

Hiccup was also growing to dread the hours he spent with Gothi on the mountain peak, deciphering lop-sided sharps and symbols, trying to ignore the way Gothi's enormous eyes filled with tears every time she looked at him. He couldn't like Gothi, even though she was treated with respect boarding on reverence by many of the class. Agatha Berdis and Maria Stonefoot had taken to haunting the mountain peak at lunchtimes, and always returned with annoyingly superior looks on their faces, as though they knew things the others didn't. They had also started using hushed voices whenever they spoke to Hiccup, as though he was on his deathbed.

On the bright side, Snotlout's plan to make Gobber lose his confidence hadn't worked. Gobber spent most of the lessons telling them how to improve their saddles and informing them that examination had started now. He wanted them to complete a project of their chose before the end of the last term.

"Now we just have to come up with an idea," said Astrid.

At the start of October, however, Hiccup had something else to occupy him, something so enjoyable it made up for his unsatisfactory classes. The Dragon Racing season was approaching, and Eret Eretson, Captain of the Gryffindor team, called a meeting one Thursday evening to discuss tactics for the new season.

In truth the one thing he liked about Dragon Racing was being with Toothless, who seemed to be quite happy to see him, because Hiccup was still covered in places with dragon saliva. Toothless was a Night Fury, is the most rarest and most intelligent dragon in the whole world and riding on his back was the most enjoys experience of his life.

There were seven people on a Dragon Racing team: three Chasers whose job it was to score goals by putting a Quaffle (a white, football-sized ball that floats around the stadium and multiplies) into a basket at each end of the stadium; two Beaters, who were equipped with heavy bats to repel the Bludgers (two heavy black balls which zoomed around trying to attack the players); a Keeper, who defended the basket, and the Seeker, who had the hardest job of all, that of catching the Dark Snitch, a tiny, winged, walnut-sized ball, whose capture ended the game and earned the Seeker's team an extra one hundred and fifty points.

Eert was a burly seventeen-year old, now in his seventh and final year at Berk. There was quiet sort of desperation in his voice as he addressed his six fellow team members and their dragons in the chilly changing rooms on the edge of pontoon of the Dragon Racing stadium.

"This is our last chance—_my_ last chance—to win the Dragon Racing cup," he told them, striding up and down in front of them. "Skullcrusher and I will be leaving at the end of this year. We'll never get another shot at it."

"Gryffindor haven't won for seven years now. Okay, so we've had the worst luck in the world—injuries—then the tournament getting called off last year…" Eret swallowed, as though the memory still brought a lump to his throat. "But we also know we've got the _best—ruddy-team—in—the—academy_," he said punching a fist into his other hand, the old manic glint back in his eye.

"We've got seven _top-notch_ dragons."

The Gryffindor Racing dragon stood up proudly.

"We've got three _super_ Chasers."

Eret pointing at Alfhild Spinson, Ase Jerkson and Kari Bellson.

"We've got two _unbeatable_ Beaters."

"Stop it, Eret, you're embarrassing us," said Double and Trouble Hofferson together, pretending to blush.

"And we've got a Seeker who has _never_ _failed_ _to win us a match_!" Eret rumbled, glaring at Hiccup with a kind of furious pride. "And me," he added, as an afterthought.

"We think you're good, too, Eret," said Trouble.

"Cracking Keeper," said Double.

"The point is," Eret went on, resuming his pacing, "the Dragon Racing cup should have had our name on it these last two years. Ever since Hiccup joined the team, I've thought the thing was in the bag. But we haven't got it, and this year's the last chance we'll get to finally see our names on the thing…"

Eret spoke so dejectedly that even Double and Trouble looked sympathetic.

"Eret, this year's our year," said Double.

"We'll do it, Eret," said Ase.

"Definitely," said Hiccup.

Full of determination, the team started training sessions, three evenings a week. The weather was getting colder and wetter, the nights darker, but no amount of mud, wind or rain could tarnish Hiccup wonderful vision of finally winning the huge, silver Dragon Racing cup.

Hiccup returned to the Gryffindor common room one evening after training, cold and stiff but pleased with the way practice had gone, to find the room buzzing excitedly.

"What's happening?" he asked Astrid and Ragnar, who were sitting in two if the best chairs by the fireside and completing some star charts for Astronomy.

"First Berksmeade weekend," said Astrid, pointing at a notice that had appeared on the battered old notice board. "End of October. Hallowe'en."

"Excellent," said Double, who followed Hiccup through the portrait hole. "I need to visit Zonko's, I'm nearly out of Stink Pellets."

Hiccup threw himself into a chair beside Astrid, his high spirits ebbing away. Ragnar seemed to read his mind.

"Hiccup, I'm sure you'll be able to go next time," he said. "They're bound to catch Alvin soon, he's been sighted once already."

"Alvin is mad not stupid, he couldn't be fool enough to try anything in Berksmeade," said Astrid. "Ask Phlegma if you can go this time, Hiccup, the next one might not be for ages—"

"_Astrid_!" said Ragnar. "Hiccup's supposed to stay _in berk_—"

"He can't be the only third-year left behind," said Astrid. "Ask Phlegma, go on, Hiccup—"

Ragnar opened his mouth to argue, but at that moment Amber landed lightly on his lap. A large, fish was in his mouth.

"Does she have to eat that in front of us?" said Astrid, scowling.

"Clever Amber, did you catch that all by yourself?" said Ragnar.

Amber began to chew the fish, her yellow eyes fixed insolently on Astrid.

"Just keep her over there, that's all," said Astrid irritably, turning back to her star chart. "I've got Scabbers asleep in my satchel."

Hiccup yawned. He really wanted to go to bed, but he still had his own star chart to complete. He pulled his bag towards him, took out parchment, ink and quill, and started work.

"You can copy mine, if you like," said Astrid, labelling her last star with a flourish and shoving the chart towards Hiccup.

Ragnar, who disapproved of copying, glared at them, but didn't say anything. Amber was still staring unblinkingly at Astrid, flicking the end of her tail. Then without warning, she pounced.

"HEY!" Astrid roared, seizing her satchel, as Amber sank her claws deeply into it, and began tearing ferociously. "GET OFF, YOU USELESS REPTILE!"

Astrid tried to pull the satchel away from Amber, but Amber clung on, roaring and slashing.

"Astrid don't you dare hurt her!" Ragnar yelled. The whole common room was watching; Astrid whirling the satchel around, Amber still clinging to it, and Scabbers came flying out of the top—

"CATCH THAT TERROR!" Astrid yelled, as Amber freed herself from the remnants of the satchel, sprang over the table and chased after the terrified Scabbers.

Trouble made a lunge for Amber, but miss; Scabbers streaked through twenty pair of legs and shot beneath an old chest of drawers. Amber skidded to a halt, crouched low on her legs and started making furious swipes beneath the chest of drawers with her front claw.

Astrid and Ragnar hurried over; Ragnar grabbed Amber around the middle and heaved him away; Astrid threw herself onto her stomach and, with great difficulty, pulled Scabbers out by the tail.

"Look at him!" he said furiously to Ragnar, dragging Scabbers in front of him. "He's skin and bone! You keep that Terror away from him!"

"Amber doesn't understand it's wrong!" said Ragnar, his voice shaking. "You know Terrible Terrors go after small animals like rats, Astrid!"

"I don't see Sharpshot, Errol or Hermod chase after him!" said Astrid, who was trying to calm down a wiggling Scabbers. "I'm telling you there something funny about that Terror. It heard me say that Scabbers was in my satchel!"

"Oh, now you're being ridiculous," said Ragnar impatiently. "Amber could _smell_ him, Astrid, how else do you think—"

"That Terror's got it in for Scabbers!" said Astrid, ignoring the people around her, who were starting to giggle. "And Scabbers was here first, _and_ he's ill."

Astrid marched through the common room and out of sight up the stairs to the girls' dormitories.

* * *

Astrid was still in a bad mood with Ragnar next day. She barely talked to her all through Herbology, even though she, Hiccup and Ragnar were working together on the same Puffapod.

"How's Scabbers?" Ragnar asked, as they stripped fat pink pods from the plants and emptied the shining beans into a wooden pail.

"He's hiding at the bottom of my bed, shaking," said Astrid angrily, missing the pail and scattering beans over the barn house floor.

"Careful, Miss Hofferson, careful!" cried Flora, as the beans burst into bloom before their eyes.

They had Transfiguration next, but still Astrid and Ragnar didn't talk to each other. They sat themselves wither side of Hiccup and listen to Phlegma intently.

Hiccup still hadn't decided what he was going to say to Phlegma when the bell rang at the end of the lesson, but it was she who brought up the subject of Berksmeade first.

"One moment, please!" she called, as the class made to leave. "As you're all in my house, you should hand Berksmeade permission forms to me before Hallowe'en. No form, no visiting the village, so don't forget.

Fishlegs put up his hand.

"Please, ma'am, I—I think I've lost—"

"Your grandmother sent yours to me directly, Ingerman," said Phlegma. "She seemed to think it was safer. Well, that's all, you may leave."

"Ask her now," Astrid hissed at Hiccup.

"Oh, but—" Ragnar began.

"Go for it, Hiccup," said Astrid stubbornly.

Hiccup waited for the rest of the class to disappear, then headed nervously for Phlegma's desk.

"Yes, Haddock?"

Hiccup took a deep breath.

"Ma'am, my aunt and uncle—uh—forgot to sign my form," he said.

Phlegma looked at him, but didn't say anything.

"So—uh—do you think it would be all right—I mean, will it be okay if—if I go to Berksmeade?"

Phlegma looked down, sighed and said, "I'm afraid not, Haddock. You heard what I said. No form, no visiting the village. That's the rule."

"But—ma'am, my aunt and uncle—you know, they're Muggles, they don't really understand about—about Berk form and stuff," Hiccup said, while Astrid egged him on with vigorous nods. "If you said I could go—"

"But I don't say so," said Phlegma, standing up. "The form clearly states that the parent or guardian must give permission." She turned to look at him, with an odd expression on her face. Was it pity? "I'm sorry, Hiccup, your mother was my best friend, but I can't show favouritism. You had better hurry, or you'll be late for your next lesson."

* * *

There was nothing to be done. Astrid called Phlegma, out of earshot of her, a lot of names that greatly annoyed Ragnar; Ragnar assumed an "all-for-the-best" expression that made Astrid even angrier, and Hiccup had to endure everyone in the class talking loudly and happily about what they were going to do first, once they got into Berksmeade.

"There's always the feast," said Astrid, in an effort to cheer Hiccup up. "You know, the Hallowe'en feast, in the evening."

"Yeah," said Hiccup, gloomily, "great."

The Hallowe'en feast was always good, but it would taste a lot better if he was coming to it after a day in Berksmeade with everyone else. Nothing anyone said made him feel any better about being left behind. Fishlegs, who was good with a quill, had offered to forge Uncle Magnus' signature on the form, but as Hiccup reminded him that he already told Phlegma he hadn't had it signed, that was no good. Astrid half-heartedly suggested the Invisibility Cape, but Ragnar stamped on that one, reminding Astrid what Heyral had told them about the Dementors being able to see though them. Sven had what were possible the least helpful words of comfort.

"They made a fuss about Berksmeade, but I assure you, Hiccup, it's not all it's cracked up to be," he said seriously. "All right, the sweetshop's rather good, but Zonko's Joke Shop's frankly dangerous, and yes, the Shrieking Shack's always worth a visit, but really, Hiccup, apart from that, you're not missing anything."

"You know, this conversion isn't really helping at all," said Hiccup, feeling even more miserable than before.

* * *

On Hallowe'en morning, Hiccup awoke with the rest and went down to breakfast feeling thoroughly depressed, though doing his best to at normally.

"We'll bring you lots of sweets back from Honeydukes," said Ragnar, looking desperately sorry for him.

"Yeah, we'll get you the good stuff," said Astrid. She and Ragnar had finally forgotten their squabble about Amber in the face of Hiccup's disappointment.

"Don't worry about me," said Hiccup, in what he hoped was an offhand voice. "I'll see you at the feast. Have a good time."

He accompanied them to the village plaza, where Mildew the Unpleasant, the caretaker, was standing inside the front doors, checking off names against a long list, peering suspiciously into every face, and making sure that no one was sneaking out who shouldn't be going.

"Staying here, Useless?" shouted Snotlout, who was standing in line with Dogsbreath and Clueless. "Scared of passing the Dementors?"

Hiccup ignored him and made his solitary way up backing into the mountain, through the Great Hall, up the marble stair case, through the deserted corridors, and back to the Gryffindor Common Room.

"Password?" said the Fat Valkyrie, jerking out of a doze.

"Daring Viking," said Hiccup listlessly.

The portrait swung open and he climbed through the hole into the common room. it was full of chattering first—and second—years, and a few older students who had obviously visited Berksmeade so often the novelty had worn off.

"Hiccup! Hiccup! Hi, Hiccup!"

It was Gustav Larson, a second-year who was deeply in awe of Hiccup and never missed an opportunity to speak to him.

"Aren't you going to Berksmeade, Hiccup? Why not? Hey—" Gustav eagerly around at his friends, "you can come and sit with us, if you like, Hiccup?"

"Uh— no, thanks, Gustav," said Hiccup, who wasn't in the mood to have a lot of people staring avidly at the scar on his forehead. "I—I've got to go to the library, got to get some work done."

After that, he had no choice but to turn right around and head back out of the portrait hole again.

"What was the point of waking me up?" the Fat Valkyrie called grumpily after him as he walked away.

Hiccup wandered dispiritedly towards the library, but halfway there he changed his mind; he didn't feel like working. He turned around and came face to face with Mildew, who had obviously just seen off the last of the Berksmeade visitors.

"What are you doing?" Mildew snarled suspiciously.

"Nothing," said Hiccup truthfully.

"Nothing!" spat Mildew, his jowls quivering unpleasantly. "A likely story! Sneaking around on your own, why aren't you in Berksmeade buying Stink Pellets and Belch Powder and Whizzing Worms like the rest of your nasty little friends?"

Hiccup shrugged.

"Well, get back to your common room where you belong!" snapped Mildew, and he walked passed him still glaring.

"Sometimes I think he only took the job to punish students," said a kind hearted voice behind Hiccup.

Hiccup turned around and saw Johann smiling at him.

"Yeah, I'm betting it's his hobby," said Hiccup.

They both laughed and then Johann studied Hiccup closely. "Why don't you come to my house?" he said at last. "It beats wondering the fort and I can show you my delivered Grindylow for our next lesson."

"A what?" said Hiccup.

He followed Johann into the village outside and entered his house. Johann had decorated the place with exotic stuff from every corn of the world, strange weapons, jewellery and knickknacks. In the corner of the room stood a very large tank of water, Hiccup saw a sickly green creature with sharp little horns had its face pressed against the glass, pulling faces and flexing its long, spindly fingers.

"Water demon of anger and hatred," said Johann, surveying the Grindlow thoughtfully. "He feeds on anger and hate, but we shouldn't have much problem with him, not after the Kappas. The trick is to keep your anger and hatred at bay while trying to break his grip. You notice the abnormally long fingers? Strong, but very brittle."

The Grindylow bared its green teeth and then buried itself in a tangle of weeds in a corner.

"Cup of coffee?" Johann said, looking around for his kettle. "I was just thinking of making one."

"All right," said Hiccup awkwardly.

Johann placed his hand on the kettle and at once steam issued suddenly from the spout.

"Sit down," said Johann, taking the lid off a dusty tin. "Gothi has informed me of the prediction she mentioned to you."

Hiccup looked at him. Johann's eyes were twinkling.

"Listen, Hiccup, Gothi is right soothsaying isn't always accurate," said Johann. "Mind you she is the world's most powerful Seer. In fact it is the reason why Drago wanted her during the war."

Hiccup stared. Johann had said Drago's name. The only person Hiccup had ever heard say the name aloud (apart from himself) was Heyral the Wise.

"You see Drago wanted her so he could get knowledge about the future," Johann explained. "However, we managed to get to her first and took her here so Heyral could watch over her. Even now Heyral is afraid that someone might kidnaper her and deliver her to Drago."

He passed Hiccup a chipped mug and looked at his face. "You're not worried, are you?"

"No," said Hiccup.

He thought for a moment of telling Johann about the dog he'd seen in Magnolia Crescent, but decided not to. He didn't want Johann to think he was a coward, especially since Johann already seemed to think he couldn't cope with a Boggart.

Something of Hiccup's though seemed to have shown on his face, because Johann said, "Anything worrying you, Hiccup?"

"No," Hiccup lied. He drank a bit of tea and watched the Grindylow brandishing a fist at him. "Yes," he said suddenly, putting his coffee down on Johann's desk. "You know that day we fought the Boggart?"

"Yes," said Joahnn slowly.

"Why didn't you let me fight it?" said Hiccup abruptly.

Johann raised his eyebrows.

"I would have thought that was obvious, Hiccup," he said, sounding surprised.

Hiccup, who had expected Johann to deny that he'd done any such thing, was taken aback.

"Why?" he said again.

"Well," said Johann, frowning slightly, "I assumed that if the Boggart faced you, it would assume the shape of Drago Bludvist." He looked at Hiccup, who was speechless and frowned. "Clearly, I was wrong. But I didn't think it a good idea for Drago Bludvist to materialise in the arena. I imagine that people would panic."

"I did think of Drago Bludvist first," said Hiccup honestly. "But then I—I remembered those Dementors."

"I see," said Johann thoughtfully. "I've travelled across the world, I've seen people you wouldn't believe, but you've impressed me more than any of them." He smiled slightly at the look of surpise on Hiccup's face. "For the thing that fears you most is fear itself. Very wise, Hiccup."

Hiccup didn't know what to say to that, so he drank some more coffee.

"So you've been thinking that I didn't believe you capable of fighting the Boggart?" said Johann shrewdly.

"Well… yeah," said Hiccup. He was suddenly feeling a lot happier. "Sir, how is it that you knew my name. Was it because of my—"

"No," said Johann simply, "I recognised you because of your eyes. You look so much like your mother… except for your—"

"My eyes," Hiccup finished.

"I knew your parents quite well," said Johann. "You mother was so kind, she looked as if she could look into your soul and your father was unbelievably stubborn—" Johann chuckled, "—whenever he got an idea in his head there was no stopping him."

Hiccup was about to ask more about his parents, but before he could there was a knock on the door.

"Come in," called Johann.

The door opened, and in came Grabbit. He was carrying a goblet, which was smoking faintly, and stopped at the sight of Hiccup, his black eyes narrowing.

"Ah, Grabbit," said Johann, smiling. "Thanks very much. Could you leave it here on the desk for me?"

Grabbit set the smoking goblet down, his eyes wandering between Hiccup and Johann.

"I was just showing Hiccup my Grindylow," said Johann pleasantly, pointing at the tank.

"Fascinating," said Grabbit, without looking at it. "You should drink that directly, Johann."

"Yes, yes, I will," said Johann.

"I made an entire cauldronful," Grabbit continued. "If you need more."

"I should probably take some again tomorrow. Thanks very much, Grabbit."

"Not at all," said Grabbit, but there was a look in his eye Hiccup didn't' like. He backed out of the room, unsmiling and watchful.

Hiccup looked curiously at the goblet. Johann smiled.

"Grabbit has very kindly concoted a potion for me," he said. "I have been much of a potion-brewer and this one is particularly complex." He picked up the goblet and sniffed it. "Pity sugar makes it useless," he added, taking a sip and shuddering.

"Why—?" Hiccup began. Johann looked at him and answered the unfinished question.

"During my travels I caught an unpleasant disease," he said. "This potion is the only thing that helps. I am very lucky to be working alongside Grabbit; there aren't many Vikings who are up to making it."

Johann took another sip and Hiccup had a mad urge to knock the goblet out of his hands.

"Grabbit's very interested in the Combat Arts," he blurted out.

"Really?" said Johann, looking only mildly interested as he took another gulp of potion.

"Some people reckon—" Hiccup hesitated, then plunged recklessly on, "some people reckon he'd do anything to get the Combat Arts job."

Johann drained the goblet and pulled a face.

"Disgusting," he said. "Well, Hiccup, I'd better get back to work. I'll see at the feast later."

"Right," said Hiccup, putting his empty coffee mug down.

The empty goblet was still smoking.

* * *

"There you go," said Astrid. "We got much as we could carry."

A shower of brilliantly coloured sweets fell into Hiccup's lap. It was dusk, and Astrid and Ragnar had just turned up in the common room, pink-faced from the cold wind and looking as though they'd had the time of their lives.

"Thanks," said Hiccup, picking up packet of tiny black Pepper Imps. "What's Berksmeade like? Where did you go?"

By the sound if it—everything. Bard and Bangs, the Viking equipment shop, Zonko's Joke Shop, into the Green Dragon for foaming mugs of hot Butterbeer and many places besides.

"The post office, Hiccup! About two hundred Terrible Terrors, all sitting on shelves, all colour-coded depending on how fast you want your letter to get there!"

"Honeydukes have got a new kind of fudge, they were giving out free samples, there's a bit look—"

"We _think_ we saw an ogre, I'm telling you they get all sorts at the Green Dragon—"

"Wish we could have brought you some Butterbeer, really warms you up—"

"What did you do?" said Ragnar. "Did some work I take it?"

"No," said Hiccup. "Johann made me a mug of coffee in his house. And then Grabbit came in…"

He told them all about the goblet. Astrid's mouth fell open.

"_Johann drank it_?" she gasped. "Is he crazy?"

Ragnar checked his watch.

"We'd better go down, you know, the feast will be starting in five minutes…" They hurried through the portrait hole and into the crowd, still discussing Grabbit.

"But if he—you know—" Ragnar dropped his voice, glancing nervously around, "if he _was_ trying to—to position Johann—he wouldn't have done it in front of Hiccup."

"Yeah, maybe," said Hiccup, as they reached the Entrance Hall and crossed into the Great Hall. It had been decorated with hundreds and hundreds of fireball-filled pumpkins, a cloud of fluttering live bats and many flaming orange streamers, which were swimming lazily across the stormy ceiling like brilliant watersnakes.

The food was delicious; even Astrid and Ragnar, who were full to bursting with Honeydukes sweets managed second helpings of everything. Hiccup kept glancing at the staff table. Johann looked cheerful and as well as he ever did; he was talking animatedly to tiny little Flitwick the Charmer, the Charms Master. Hiccup moved his eyes along the table, to place where Grabbit sat. Was he imagining it, or were Grabbit's eyes flickering towards Johann more often than was natural?

The feast finished with an entertainment provided by the Berk ghosts. They popped out of the walls and tables to do a spot of formation gliding: Nearly Headless Njal, the Gryffindor ghost, had a great success with a re-enactment of his own botched beheading.

It had been such good evening that Hiccup's good mood couldn't even be spoiled by Snotlout, who shouted through the crowd as they all left the Hall. "The Dementors send their love, Useless!"

Hiccup, Astrid and Ragnar followed the rest of the Gryffindors along the usual path to the Gryffindor Common Room, but when they reached the corridor which ended with the portrait of the Fat Valkyrie, they found it jammed with students.

"Why isn't anyone going in?" said Astrid curiously.

Hiccup peered over the heads in front of him. The portrait seemed to be closed.

"Let me through, please," came Sven's voice, and he came bustling importantly through the crowd. "What's the hold-up here? You can't all have forgotten the password—excuse me, I'm Head Boy—"

And then a silence fell over the crowd, from the front first, so that a chill seemed to spread down the corridor. They heard Sven say, in a suddenly sharp voice, "Somebody get Heyral. Quick."

People's heads turned; those at the back were standing on tip-toe.

"What's going on?" said Ripper, who had just arrived.

Next moment, Heyral was there, sweeping towards the portrait; the Gryffindors squeezed together to let him through, and Hiccup, Astrid and Ragnar moved closer to see what the trouble was.

"Odin's beard," Ragnar gasped, as Astrid grabbed Hiccup's arm.

The Fat Valkyrie had vanished from her portrait, which had been slashed so viciously that the wood was cracked and splinters littered the floor; great chunks of wood had been torn away completely.

Heyral took one quick look at the ruined painting and turned, his eyes sombre to see Phlegma, Johann and Grabbit hurrying towards him.

"We need to find her," said Heyral. "Phlegma, please got Mildew at once and tell him to search every painting in the mountain for the Fat Valkyrie."

"You'll be lucky!" said a cracking voice.

It was Peeves the Poltergeist, bobbing over the crowd and looking delighted, as he always did, at sight of wreckage or worry.

"What do you mean, Peeves?" said Heyral calmly, and Pevves' grin faded a little. He didn't dare taunt Heyral. Instead he adopted an oily voice that was no better than his cackle.

"Ashamed, Your Headship, sir. Doesn't want to be seen. She's a horrible mess. Saw her running through the landscape up on the fourth floor, sir, dodging between the tress. Crying something dreadful," he said happily. "Poor thing," he added, unconvincingly.

"Did she say who did it?" said Heyral quietly.

"Oh, yes, Wisehead," said Peeves, with the air of one cradling a large bombshell in his arms. "He's got very angry when she wouldn't let him in, you see." Peeves flipped over, and grinned at Heyral from between his own legs. "Nasty temper he's got, that Alvin the Treacherous."


	9. The Signpost to Defeat

Heyral sent all the Gryffindors back to the Great Hall, where they were joined ten minutes later by students from Hufflepuff, Ravenclaw and Slytherin, who all looked extremely confused.

"The teachers and I need to conduct a thorough search of the fort," Heyral told them as Phlegma and Flitwick closed all doors into the Hall. "I'm afraid that, for your own safety, you will have to spend the night here. I want the Prefects to stand guard over the entrances to the Hall and I am leaving the Head Boy and Girl in charge. Any disturbance should be reported to me immediately," he added to Sven, who was looking immensely proud and important. "Send word with one of the ghosts."

Heyral paused, about to leave the Hall, and said, "Oh, yes, you'll be needing…"

He waved his axe prosthetic and the long tables flew to the edge of the Hall and stood themselves against the walls; another wave, and the floor was covered with hundreds of squashy purple sleeping bags.

"Sleep well," said Heyral, closing the door behind him.

The Hall immediately began to buzz excitedly; the Gryffindors were telling the rest of the school what had just happened.

"Everyone into their sleeping bags!" shouted Sven. "Come on now, no more talking! Lights out in ten minutes!"

"Come on, guys," Astrid said to Hiccup and Ragnar; they seized three sleeping bags and dragged them into a corner.

"Do you think Alvin's still in the fort?" Ragnar whispered anxiously.

"Heyral obviously thinks he might be," said Astrid.

"It's very lucky he picked tonight, you know," said Ragnar, as they climbed fully dressed into their sleeping bags and propped themselves on their elbows to talk. "The one night we weren't in the common room…"

"I reckon he's lost track of time, being on the run," said Astrid. "Didn't realise it was Hallowe'en. Otherwise he'd have come bursting in here."

"Or maybe he wanted to sneak into out dorm to get me," said Hiccup.

Ragnar shrugged.

All around them, people were asking each other the same question: "_How did he get in_?"

"Maybe he knows how to use Teleportation Magic," said a Ravenclaw a few feet away. "Just appear out of thin air, you know."

"Disguised himself, probably," said a Hufflepuff fifth-year.

"He could've flown in," suggested Wartihog.

"Am I the _only_ person who's ever bothered to read _Berk, A History_?" said Ragnar crossly to Hiccup and Astrid.

"Probably," said Astrid. "Why?"

"Because the fort and the mountain are protected by more than _walls_, you know," said Ragnar. "There are all sorts of enchantments on it, to stop people entering by stealth. You can't us Teleportation Magic in here. And Heyral mentioned that disguise can't fool Dementors. They're guarding every single entrance to the island. They'd have seen him fly in, too. And Mildew knows all the secret passages, they'll have tem covered…"

"The lights are going out now!" Sven shouted. "I want everyone in their sleeping bags and no more talking!"

The torches all went out at once. The only light now came from the silvery ghosts, who were drifting about talking seriously to the Prefects, and the enchanted ceiling, which, like the sky outside, was scattered with stars. What with that, and the whispering that still filled the Hall, Hiccup felt as though he was sleeping out of doors in a light wind.

Once every hour, a teacher would reappear in the Hall to check that everything was quiet. Around three in the morning, when many students had finally fallen asleep, Heyral came in. Hiccup watched him looking around for Sven, who had been prowling between the sleeping bags, telling people off for talking. Sven was only a short way away from Hiccup, Astird and Ragnar, who quickly pretended to be asleep as Heyral's footsteps drew nearer.

"Any sign of him, sir," asked Sven in a whisper.

"No. All well here?"

"Everything under control, sir."

"Good. There's no point moving them all now. I've found a temporary guardian for the Gryffindor portrait hole. You'll be able to move them back in tomorrow."

"And the Fat Valkyrie, sir?"

"Hiding in a map of Argyllshire on the second floor. Apparently she refused to let Alvin in without the password, so he attacked. She's still very distressed, but once she's calmed down, I'll have Mildew restore her."

Hiccup heard the door of the Hall creak open again, and more footsteps.

"Headmaster?" It was Grabbit. Hiccup kept quite still, listening hard. "The whole of the third floor has been searched. He's not there. And Mildew has done the dungeons; nothing there, either."

"What about the Mountain Peak? The Arena? The Stables?"

"All searched…"

"Very well, Grabbit. I didn't really expect Alvin to linger."

"Have you any theory as to how he got in, Heyral?" asked Grabbit.

Hiccup raised his head very slightly off his arms to free his other ear.

"Many, Grabbit, each of them as unlikely as the next. If he wasn't a criminal charged with murder I would be impressed."

Hiccup opened his eyes a fraction and squinted up to where they stood; Grabbit's back was to him, but he could see Grabbit's face, rapt with attention, and Grabbit's profile, which looked angry.

"You remember the conversation we had, Headmaster, just before—ah—the start of term?" said Grabbit, who was barely opening his lips, as though trying to block Sven out of the conversation.

"I do, Grabbit," said Heyral, and there was something like warning in his voice.

"It seems—almost impossible—that Alvin—could have entered Berk would without inside help. I did express my concerns when you appointed—"

"I do not believe a single person one the island would have helped Alvin enter it. And my I remind you Grabbit that holding grudges is very unwise," said Heyral, and his tone made it so clear that the subject was closed that Grabbit didn't reply. "I must go down to the Dementors," said Heyral. "I said I would inform them when our search was complete."

"Didn't they want to help, sir?" said Sven.

"Oh yes," said Heyral coldly. "But I'm afraid no Dementor will cross the over lake while I am Headmaster."

Sven looked slightly abashed. Heyral left the hall, walking quickly and quietly. Grabbit stood for a moment, watching the Headmaster with an expression of deep resentment on his face, then he, too, left.

Hiccup glanced sideways at Astrid and Ragnar. Both of them had their eyes open, too, reflecting the starry ceiling.

"What was that about?" Astrid mouthed.

"I have no idea," Hiccup mouthed back.

* * *

The school talked of nothing but Alvin the Treacherous for the next few days. The theories about how he had entered the fort became wilder and wilder; Eggingarde Damar, from Hufflepuff, spent much of their next Herbology class telling anyone who'd listen that Alvin could turn into a flowering shrub.

The Fat Valkyrie's battered portrait had been taken off the wall and replaced with the portrait of Cadogan the Galllant and his purple scaled Gronckle. Nobody was very happy about this. Cadogan spent half his time challenging people to duels and charming young Valkyries, which annoyed Astrid quite a lot, and the rest thinking up ridiculously complicated passwords, which he changed at least twice a day.

"He's crazier," said Wartihog angrily to Sven. "Can't we get anyone else?"

"None of the other pictures wanted the job," said Sven. "Frightened of what happened to the Fat Valkyrie. Cadogan was the only one brave enough to volunteer."

Cadogan, however, was the least of Hiccup's worries. He was now being closely watched. Teachers found excuses to walk along corridors with him and Sven Hofferson (acting, Hiccup suspected, on his mother's orders) was tailing him everywhere like an extremely pompous guard dog. Even when he was in the stables with Toothless, he was being watched by Eret and Madam Hooch. Phlegma summoned a Hiccup to her house, with such sombre expression on her face Hiccup thought someone must have died.

"There's no point hiding it from you any longer, Hiccup," she said, in a very serious voice. Hiccup knew this was going to be serious if she was using his first name. "I know this will come as a shock to you, but Alvin the Treacherous—"

"I know he's after me," said Hiccup wearily. "I heard Astrid's dad telling her mum. Mr Hofferson works for the Ministry of Magic."

Phlegma seemed very taken aback. She stared at Hiccup for a moment or two, then said, "I see! Well, in that case, Hiccup, you'll understand why I don't think it's a good idea for you to be practising Dragon Racing in the evenings. Out on the lake with only your team members, it's very exposed, Hiccup—"

"We've got our first match on Saturday!" said Hiccup, outraged. "I've got to train, ma'am. Besides, I'll be riding on a Night Fury."

Phlegma considered him intently. Hiccup knew she deeply interested in the Gryffindor team's prospects; it had been she, after all, who'd suggested him as Seeker in the first place. He waited, holding his breath.

"Hmm…" Phlegma stood up stared out of the window at the Dragon Racing stadium, just visible through the rain. "Well… Thor only knows, I'd like to see us win the cup at last… but all the same, Hiccup… I'd be happier if a teacher were present. I'll ask Madam Hooch to oversee your training session."

The weather worsened steadily as the first Dragon Racing match drew nearer. Undaunted, the Gryffindor team were training harder than ever under the eye of Madam Hooch. Then, at their final training session before Saturday's match, Eret gave his team some unwelcome news.

"We're not playing Slytherin!" he told them, looking very angry. "Dagur's just been to see me. We're playing Hufflepuff instead."

"Why?" chorused the rest of the team.

"Dargur's excuse is that their Seeker's arm's still injured," said Eret, grinding his teeth furiously. "But it's obvious why they're doing it. Don't want to play in this weather. Think it'll damage their chances…"

There had been strong winds and heavy rain all day, and as Eret spoke, they heard a distant rumble of thunder. It seemed Thor was angry about something, maybe he was angry at Loki as Hiccup was as angry as Snotlout.

"There's _nothing wrong_ with Snotlout's arm!" said Hiccup furiously. "He's faking it!"

"I know that, but we can't prove it," said Eret bitterly. "And we've been practising all those moves assuming we're playing Slytherin, and instead it's Hufflepuff, and their style's quite different. They've got a new captain and Seeker Eric Digson—"

Ase, Alfhild and Kari giggled.

"What?" said Eret, frowning at this light-hearted behaviour.

"He's that tall, good-looking one, isn't he?" said Ase.

"Strong and silent," said Kari, and they started to giggle again.

"He's only silent because he's too much of a muttonhead to string two words together," said Double impatiently. "I don't know why you're worried, Eret, Hufflepuff are pushovers. Last time we played them, Hiccup caught the Snitch in about five minutes, remember?"

"We were playing in completely different conditions!" Eret shouted, his eyes bulging slightly. "Digson's put a very strong side together! He's an excellent Seeker! The Snitch will be harder to see! I was afraid you'd take it like this! We mustn't relax! We must keep our focus! Slytherin are trying to wrong-foot us! We _must_ win!"

"Eret, calm down!" said Double looking slightly alarmed. "We're taking Hufflepuff very seriously. _Seriously_."

* * *

The day before the match, the winds reached howling point and rain fell harder than ever. It was so dark inside the corridors and classrooms that extra torches were lit. The Slytherin team were looking very smug indeed, and none more so than Snotlout.

"Ah, if only my arm was feeling a bit better!" he sighed, as the gale outside pounded the windows.

Hiccup had no room in his head to worry about anything except the match next day. Eret kept hurrying up to him between classes and giving him tips. The third time this happened, Eret talked for so long that Hiccup suddenly realised he was ten minutes late for Combat Arts, and set off at a run with Eret shouting after him, "Digson's got a very fast Monstrous Nightmare called Crimsonclaw, Hiccup, so don't fly up to him too close—"

Hiccup skidded to a halt outside the arena and dashed inside.

"Sorry I'm late, sir, I—"

But it wasn't Johann who looked up at him from the middle of the arena; it was Grabbit.

"This lesson began ten minutes ago, Haddock, so I think we'll make it ten points from Gryffindor. Sit down."

But Hiccup didn't move.

"Where's Johann?" he said.

"He says he is feeling too ill to teach today," said Grabbit with a twisted smile. "I believe I told you to sit down?"

Bu Hiccup stayed where he was.

"What's wrong with him?"

Grabbit's black eyes glittered.

"Nothing life-threatening," he said, looking as though he wished it was. "Five points from Gryffindor, and I have to ask you to sit down again, it will be fifty."

Hiccup walked slowly to his seat and sat down. Grabbit looked around at the class.

"As I was saying before Haddock interrupted, Johann has not left any record of the topics you have covered so far—"

"We've done Boggarts, Goblins, Kappas and Grindylows," said Ragnar crossing his arms, "and we're just about to start—"

"Be quiet," said Grabbit coldly. "I did not ask for information. I was merely commenting on Johann's lack of organisation."

"He's the coolest Combats Arts teacher we've ever had," said Tuffnut.

"Yeah, his lessons are the best," Ruffnut added, and there was murmur of agreement from the rest of the class. Grabbit looked more menacing than ever.

"You and your dim-witted brother are easily satisfied. Johann is hardly over-taxing you—I would expect first-years to be able to deal with Goblins and Grindlows. Today we shall discuss—"

Hiccup watched him flicker through the textbook, to the very back chapter, which he must know they hadn't covered.

"—werewolves," said Grabbit.

"But, sir," said Ragnar, looking confused, "we're not supposed to do werewolves yet, we're due to start Nokken—"

"Keatson," said Grabbit, in a voice of deadly calm, "I was under the impression that I was taking this lesson, not you. And I am telling you to turn to page three thundered and ninety-four." He glanced around again. "_All_ of you! _Now!_"

With many bitter sidelong looks and some sullen muttering, the class opened their books.

"Which of you can tell me how we distinguish between the werewolf and the true wolf?" said Grabbit.

"Everyone sat in motionless silence; everyone except Ragnar, whose hand, as it so often did, had shot straight into the air.

"Anyone?" Grabbit said, ignoring Ragnar. His twisted smile was back. "Are you telling me that Johann hasn't even taught you the basic distinction between—"

"We told you," said Agatha suddenly, "we haven't got as far as werewolves yet, we're still on—"

"_Silence!_" snarled Grabbit. "Well, well, well, I never thought I'd meet a third-year class who wouldn't even recognise a werewolf when they saw one. I shall make a point of informing Heyral how very behind you all are…"

"Sir," said Ragnar annoyed, "if you let me speak I could tell you that a werewolf differs from the true wolf in several small ways. For example the snout of the werewolf—"

"That is the second time you have spoken out of turn, Keatson," said coolly. Five more points from Gryffindor. And I might ask you if you can keep your mouth shut or do you like to be an insufferable know-it-all."

"You know he's got a point," Astrid whispered.

"Sir, I'm only trying to help move your class along," said Ragnar crossing his arms.

Every person in the class glared at Grabbit with deep loathing, because every one of them had called Ragnar a know-it-all at least once, and Astrid, who told Ragnar a know-it-all at least twice a week, said loudly. "And can I ask you a question sir! Do you want a question answered or not, because he knows the answer? Why ask if you don't want to be told?"

The class knew instantly, she'd gone too far. Grabbit advanced on Astrid slowly, and the room held its breath.

"Detention, Miss Hofferson," Grabbit said silkily, his face very close to Astrid's. "And if I ever hear you criticise the way I teach a class again, you will be very sorry indeed."

No one made a sound throughout the rest of the lesson. They sat and made notes on werewolves from the textbook, while Grabbit prowled up and down the rows of desks, examining the work they had been doing with Johann.

"Very poorly explained… that is incorrect, the Kappa is more commonly found in Mongolia… Johann gave this eight out of ten! I wouldn't have given it three…"

When the horn blew at last, Grabbit held them back.

"You will each write an essay, to be handed in to me, on the ways you recognise and kill werewolves. I want two rolls of parchment on the subject, and I want them by Monday morning. It is time somebody took this class in hand. Miss Hofferson, stay behind, we need to arrange your detention.

Hiccup and Ragnar left the room with the rest of the class, who waited until they were well out of earshot, then burst into a furious tirade about Grabbit.

"Grabbit's never been like this with any of our other Combat Arts teachers, even if he did want the job," Hiccup said to Ragnar. "Why's he got it in for Johann? Do you think this is all because of the Boggart?"

"No, I think it's deeper than that," said Ragnar rubbing his chin. "But I really hope Johann gets better soon…"

Astrid caught up with them five minutes later, in a towering rage.

"Do you know what that Son of Troll is making me do? I've got to scrub out the bedpans in the healing centre. _Without magic_!" She was breathing deeply, her fists clenched. "Why couldn't Alvin have hidden in Grabbit's office, eh? He could have finished him off for us!"

* * *

Hiccup woke extremely early next morning; so early that it was still dark. For a moment he thought the roaring of the wind had woken him, then he felt a cold breeze on the back of his neck and sat bolt upright—Pevves the Poltergeist had been floating next to him, blowing hard in his ear.

"What did you do that for?" said Hiccup furiously.

Peeves puffed out his cheeks, blew hard and zoomed backwards out of the room, cackling.

Hiccup fumbled for his alarm clock and looked at it. It was half past four. Cursing Peeves, he rolled over and tried to get back to sleep, but it was very difficult, now he was awake, to ignore the sounds of the thunder rumbling overheard, the pounding of the wind against the mountain and the distant creaking of trees in Raven's Point. Thor was differently in a foul mood and Hiccup felt sorry for whoever Thor was angry at.

In a few hours he would be out on the Dragon Racing stadium, battling through that gale. Finally he gave up any thought of more sleep, got up, dressed and walked quietly out of the dormitory.

He reached the bottom of the stairs, he saw Amber making her way up to the girls dormitory. Hiccup drew out his sword and used his fire magic to create a hand to drag Amber towards him.

"You know, I reckon Astrid was right about you," Hiccup told Amber suspiciously. "There are plenty of mice in the stables, go and chase them. Go on," he added, pulling Amber to the open window that he guested was how she got in in the first place, "leave Scabbers alone."

The noise of the storm was even louder in the common room. Hiccup knew better than to think the match would be cancelled; Dragon Racers weren't called off for trifles such as thunderstorms. Nevertheless, he was starting to feel very apprehensive. Eret had pointed out Eric Digson to him in the corridor; Digson was fifth year and a lot bigger than Hiccup. Seekers were usually light and speedy, but Digson's weight would be an advantage in this weather because he was less likely to be blown off course.

Eret had also introduced him to Digson's dragon, Crimsonclaw. Crimsonclaw looked like your advantage Monstrous Nightmare, but up close you could tell he was fit and powerful. Normally Seeker dragons were fast and nibble like a Deadly Nadder, but Hiccup could tell that Digson had trained Crimsonclaw to push beyond his limits.

Hiccup whiled away the hours until dawn in front of the fire, getting up every now and then to stop Amber sneaking up the girls' staircase again. At long last Hiccup thought it must be time for breakfast, so he headed through the portrait hole alone.

"Stand and fight, you runt if a Viking!" yelled Cadogan.

Hiccup ignored him and made his way to the Great Hall.

He revived a bit over a large bowl of porridge, and by the time he'd started on toast, the rest of the team had turned up.

"It's going to be a tough one," said Eret, who wasn't eating anything.

"Stop worrying, Eret," said Alfhild soothingly, "we don't mind a bit of rain."

But it was considerably more than a bit of rain. Such was the popularity of Dragon Racing that the whole academy turned out to the stadium as usual, but they ran down the lawns towards the stables, heads bowed against the ferocious wind, umbrellas being whipped out of their hands as they went. Even the dragons were finding hard to over to stadium, they spent most of the time trying to fly straight and the rest trying to keep their riders on their backs. Just before he entered the changing rooms with Toothless, Hiccup saw Snotlout, Dogsbreath and Clueless laughing and pointing at him from under an enormous umbrella on their way to their seats. Hiccup had to pull Toothless back to prevent him from firing a plasma blast at them.

The team placed their face paint on themselves and on their dragons, for the good it would do in this rain, and waited for Eret's usual pre-match pep talk, but it didn't come. He tried to speak several times, made an odd gulping noise, then shook his head hopelessly and beckoned them to follow him.

The wind was so train that they nearly were flown off their dragons as flew out onto the stadium. They were forced to put their harness on to prevent that from happening. If the crowd cheering they couldn't hear it over the fresh rolls of thunder.

The Hufflepuffs were flying into the stadium as well from the opposite side of the pitch, wearing canary-yellow face paint. The captains flew side by side and shook each other's hand; Digson smiled at Eret, but Eret now looked as though he had lock-jaw and merely nodded. Hiccup saw Madam Hooch's mouth form the words, "Get set." Hiccup held onto his Nimbus Two Thousand and give a few encouraging words to Toothless. Madam Hooch put her whistle to her lips and gave it a blast that sounded shrill and distant—they were off.

Hiccup rose fast, but Toothless was swerving slightly with the wind. He held onto him as Toothless steadied themselves.

"Take it easy, bud," said Hiccup patting Toothless' side.

Hiccup lost track of time. it was getting harder and harder to keep Toothless steady. The sky was getting dark, as though night had decided to come early making it even hard to find the Snitch.

Hiccup was starting to get numb with the cold, he was wetter than he'd ever been in his life. Toothless was finding it hard to fly straight, but he put up a good fight as they flew around the stadium. Hiccup kept an eye out for the Snitch, avoiding a Bludger, ducking beneath Digson, who was streaking in the opposite direction…

There was another clap of thunder, followed immediately by forked lighting. This was getting more and more dangerous. Hiccup need to get the Snitch quickly—

He turned, intending to head back towards the middle of the stadium, but at that moment, another flash of lighting illuminated the stands, and Hiccup saw something that distracted him completely: the silhouette of an enormous shaggy black dog, clearly imprinted against the sky, motionless in topmost, empty row of seats.

Suddenly a powerful gust of wind knocked Toothless unbalanced and they dropped a few feet. Shaking his sodden fringe out of his eyes, he squinted back into the stands. The dog had vanished.

"Hiccup!" came Eret's anguished yell from Gryffindor basket. "Hiccup, behind you!"

"Hiccup looked wildly around. Eric Digson was pelting up the pitch, and a little dark ball was shimmering in the rain-filled air between them…

With a jolt of panic, Hiccup threw himself flat on Toothless' back and they zoomed towards the Snitch.

"You can do it, bub! Come one!" Hiccup yelled at Toothless, who flapped his wings like mad.

But something odd was happening. An eerie silence was falling across the stadium. The wind, though as strong as ever, was forgetting to roar. It was as though as someone had turned off the sound, as though Hiccup had gone suddenly deaf-what was going on?

Toothless growled as though he sensed something. And then a horribly familiar wave of cold swept over him, inside him, just as he became aware of something moving on the stadium below.

Before he'd had time to think, Hiccup had taken his eyes off the Snitch and looked down.

At least a hundred Dementors, their hidden faces pointing up at him, were standing below. It was as though freezing water was rising in his chest, cutting at his insides. And then he heard it again… someone was screaming, screaming inside his head… woman.

"_Not Hiccup, not Hiccup, please not Hiccup_!"

"_Stand aside, you silly woman… stand aside, now…_"

"_You'll have to kill me first before you take him_—"

Numbing, swirling white mist was filling Hiccup's brain… What was he doing? Why was he flying? He needed to help her… she was going to die… she was going to be murdered…

He was falling, falling through the icy mist.

"_Hiccup be brave… be strong… and remember we'll always love you…_"

A deep booming voice was laughing, the woman was screaming, and Hiccup knew no more.

* * *

"He looks a bit peaky."

"_Peaky_! What do you expect he feel over a fifty feet."

"Yeah, come on Fishlegs let's walk you up to the mountain peak…"

"And see what you look like."

Hiccup could hear the voices whispering, but they made no sense whatsoever. He didn't have a clue where he was, or how he'd got there, or what he'd been doing before he got there. All he knew was that every inch of him was aching as though it had been beaten.

"That was the scariest thing I've ever seen in my life."

"Come on, Astrid, you know as well as it he's too stubborn to die."

Scariest… the scariest thing… hooded black figures… cold… screaming…

Hiccup's eyes snapped open. He was lying in the healing centre. The Gyrffindor Dragon Racing team, soaked to the bone, was gathered around his bed. Astrid, Ragnar, Fishlegs, Wartihog and the Thorston twins were also there, looking as though they'd just climbed out of a swimming pool.

"Hiccup!" said Double, who looked extremely white. "How're you feeling?"

It was as though Hiccup's memory was on fast forward. The lightning… the Signpost to Valhalla… and the Dementors…

"What happened?" he said, sitting up so suddenly they all gasped.

"You fell," said Tuffnut plainly.

"Really, I would never have guessed," said Hiccup rolling his eyes. "I meant the match. What happened? Are we having a replay?"

No one said anything. The horrible truth sank into Hiccup like a stone.

"We lost did we?"

"Digson got the Snitch," said Troubler. "Just after you fell. He didn't realise what had happened. When he looked back and saw you on the water, he tried to call it off. Wanted a re-match. But they won fair and square… even Eret admits."

"Where is Eret?" said Hiccup, suddenly realising he wasn't there.

"He took the defect quite badly," said Ase.

"He just needs to cool down a bit," said Alfhild assuring.

Hiccup put his face to his knees, his hand gripping his hair. Astrid placed a genital hand on his shoulder.

"Not going to punch me for scaring you," said Hiccup.

"No one blames you, Hiccup," said Astrid kindly. "The Dementors aren't allowed over the lake."

"She's right," said Wartihog. "Not your fault the Dementors decided to crash the match."

"Besides, it's not over yet," said Double. "It was one hundred and fifty to fifty? So if Hufflepudd lose to Ravenclaw and we beat Ravenclaw and Slytherin…"

"Hufflepuff'll have to lose by at least two hundred points," said Trouble.

"But if they beat Ravenclaw…"

"No way, Ravenclaw are too good. But if Slytherin lose against Hufflepuff…"

"It all depends on the points—a margin of a hundred either way—"

Hiccup lay there, not saying a word. They had lost… for the first time ever, he had lost a Dragon Racing match.

After ten minutes or so, Flora came over to tell the team to leave him in peace.

"We'll come and see you later," Double told him. "Don't beast yourself up, Hiccup, you're still the best Seeker we've ever had."

The team trooped out, trailing mud behind them. Flora shut the door behind them looking disapproving. Astrid and Ragnar moved to Hiccup's bed, while Fishlegs, Wartihog and the Thorston twins just stood idly.

"We should have seen Heyral," said Ruffnut, who was shivering at the memory.

"Aye, he made Thor look like a toddler with a temper tantrums," Wartihog agreed.

"He used some Wind Magic in order to slow your descent and used Water Magic to cushion your landing," said Fishlegs.

"He then faced the Dementors and pointed his axe at them," said Ragnar. "Then shot some bright light out and it took form of something. Whatever it was it threatened them."

"After that he took you make to the island," said Astrid. "You have no idea how worried we were… w-we thought you were…"

Hiccup saw that there were tears in her eyes, but he was thinking about what the Dementors had done to him… about the screaming voice. He looked up and saw Astrid, Ragnar, Fishlegs, Wartihog and the Thorston twins looking at him, then he realised that he forgotten about Toothless.

"What happened to Toothless?"

They all looked quickly at each other.

"What happened to Toothless?" Hiccup demanded fearing the worse. "Is he—"

"No!" said Ragnar quickly.

"So what happened?" Hiccup asked.

"Well, the winds were so strong that Toothless was blown all the way to the island," said Ragnar rubbing the back of his neck. "And he sort of hit the Whomping Willow."

Hiccup's insides lurched. The Whomping Willow was a very violent tree which stood alone just outside the farms.

"Flitwick and Flora managed to save him," said Wartihog and looked at the bed beside Hiccup. "Just not all of him."

Hiccup looked around and saw Toothless on the bed asleep. He looked worse than Hiccup, he was warped in bandages and Hiccup saw some bruisers, but the thing that caught Hiccup attention was Toothless' tail. One of his tailfins were missing.

"He got off easy," said Fishlegs and for the first time Hiccup noticed he was holding a bag. "Your saddle wasn't so lucky."

Slowly he raised the bag up and tipped it upside down over his bed. Dozen bits of leather fell onto the bed, the only remains of Hiccup's faithful, finally beaten saddle.


	10. The Marauder's Map

Flora insisted on keeping Hiccup in the healing centre for the rest of the weekend. He didn't argue or complain it just meant he was close to Toothless. Flora had told him that Toothless will make a full recovery, but he would never fly again. Not only had he lost his saddle, but Toothless had lost the ability to fly and that's a fate he couldn't want on his best none-human friend.

He had a stream of visitors, all intent on cheering him up. Gobber told him not to worry, because he knew that Hiccup would find a way to help Toothless, Hiccup wasn't so sure if that was possible, Ripper Hofferson had given him a "get well" card and said that Astrid had made it herself, but he knew that was lie before Ripper had opened his mouth, the card itself sang shrilly unless Hiccup kept it shut under his bowl of fruit. The Gryffindor team visited again on Sunday morning, this time accompanied by Eret, who told Hiccup he was sorry about Toothless and his saddle and assured him that he didn't blame him in the slightest. Astrid and Ragnar only left Hiccup's bedside at night. But nothing anyone said or did could make Hiccup feel any better, because they only knew half of what was troubling him.

He hadn't told anyone about the Signpost to Valhalla, not even Astrid and Ragnar, because he knew Astrid would panic and Ragnar would scoff. The fact remained, however, that it had now appeared twice, and both appearances had been followed by near-fatal accidents; the first time, he had nearly been run over by the Dragon Night Bus; the second, fallen fifty feet off of Toothless. Was that big black dog going to haunt him until he actually died? Was he going to spend the rest of his life looking over his shoulder for the beast? There was only one person who had the answer, but he decided to wait until he was out of the healing centre to talk to her.

But the thing that got him down were the Dementors. Hiccup felt sick and humiliated every time he thought of them. Everyone said the Dementors were horrible, but no one collapsed every time they went near one… no one else heard echoes in their head of their dying parents.

For Hiccup knew who that screaming voice belonged to now. He had heard her words, heard them over and over again during night hours in the healing centre while he lay awake, staring at the strips of moonlight on the ceiling. When the Dementors approached him, he heard the last moments of his mother's life, her attempts to protect him, Hiccup, from Drago Bludvist, and Drago's laughter before murdered her… Hiccup doze fitfully, sinking into dreams full of clammy, rotted hands and petrified pleasing, jerking awake only to dwell again on the sound of his mother's voice.

* * *

It was a relief to return on Monday to the noise and bustle of the main school, where he was forced to think about other things even if he had to endure Snotlout's taunting. Snotlout was almost beside himself with glee at Gryffindor's defeat. He had finally taken off his bandages, and celebrated having the full use of both arms again by doing spirited imitations of Hiccup falling off of Toothless. Snotlout spent much of their next Potions class doing Dementor imitations across the dungeon; Astrid finally cracked, and probably would have kill Snotlout if he, Wartihog and Tuffnut hadn't held her back. This caused Grabbit to take fifty points from Gryffindor.

"If Grabbit's taking Combat Arts again," I'm going to chop by arm off," said Astrid, as they headed towards the arena after lunch. "Check who's in there, Rag."

Ragnar peered into the arena.

"You can keep both your arms, it's Johann."

Johann was back at work. It certainly looked as though he had been ill. His clothes were hanging more loosely on him and there were dark shadows beneath his eyes; nevertheless, he smiled at the class as they took their seats, and they burst at once into an explosion of complaints about Grabbit's behaviour while Johann had been ill.

"It's not fair, he was only filling in, why should he set us homework?"

"Did you tell Grabbit we haven't covered them yet?" Johann asked, frowning slightly.

The babble broke out again.

"Yes, but he said we were really behind—"

"—he wouldn't listen—"

"—_two rolls of parchment_—"

Johann smiled at the look of indignation on every face.

"Don't worry. I'll speak to Grabbit. You don't have to do the essay."

"Drat," said Ragnar, looking annoyed. "I've already finished it!"

They had a very enjoyable lesson. Johann had brought along a glass box containing a Nokken, a webbed foot creature who seemed as though he was made of mist, rather frail and harmless-looking.

"Lures travellers into bogs and into leaky boats," said Johann, as they took notes. "They sing songs in order to trick people into getting into the water—then—"

The Nokken made a horrible squelching noise against the glass.

When the horn blew, everyone gathered up their things and headed for the door, Hiccup amongst them, but—

"Wait a moment, Hiccup," Johann called, "I'd like a word.

Hiccup doubled back and watch Johann covering the Nokken's box with a cloth.

"I heard about the match," said Johann, turning back to his desk and started to pile books into his trunk, "and I'm sorry about Toothless."

"Flora said he needs time to heal, but he should be back to his feet soon," said Hiccup.

"And his tailfin?"

"Flora said there's nothing she could do."

Johann sighed.

"They planted the Whomping Willow the same year that I arrived at Berk. People used to play a game, trying to get hear enough to touch the trunk. In the end, a boy called Bree Gudgson nearly lost an eye, and we were forbidden to go near it. Toothless is luck to be alive, shame your saddle wasn't as luck."

"Saddles can be replaced, friends can't," said Hiccup.

Johann chuckled. "Spoken like your mother."

Hearing his about his mother reminded Hiccup of the Dementors. "Did you hear about the Dementors, too?" he said with difficultly.

Johann looked at him quickly.

"Yes, I did. I don't think any of us have seen Heyral that angry. They have been growing restless for some time… furious at his refusal to let them hover over the lake… I suppose they were the reason you fell?"

"Yes," said Hiccup. He hesitated, and then the question he had to ask burst from him before he could stop himself. "_Why_? Why do they affect me like that? Am I just—?"

"It has nothing to do with weakness," said Johann sharply, as though he had read Hiccup's mind. "The Dementors affect you worse than the others because there are horrors in your past that others could scarcely comprehend."

A ray of wintry sunlight fell across the arena, illuminating Johann's grey hairs and the lines on his young face.

"Dementors are among the foulest creatures that walk Midgard, even my demon standers. They infest the darkest, filthiest places, they glory in decay and despair, they drain peace, hope and happiness out of the air around them. Even Muggles feel their presence, though they can't see them. Get too near a Dementor and every good feeling, every happy memory, will be sucked out of you. If it can, the Dementor will feed on you long enough to reduce you to something like itself—soulless and evil. You'll be left with nothing but the worst experiences of your life. And the worst that has happened to _you_, Hiccup, is enough to make anyone fall off their dragon. You have nothing to feel ashamed of."

"When they get near me—" Hiccup stared at Johann's desk, his throat tight, "I can hear Drago murdering my mum."

Johann made a monition with his arm as though he had made to grip Hiccup's shoulder, but thought better of it. There was a moment's silence; then—

"Why did they have to come to the match?" said Hiccup bitterly.

"They're getting hungry," said Johann coolly, shutting his trunk with a snap. "Heyral won't let them into the academy, so their supply of human prey had dried up… I don't think they could resist the large crowd around the Dragon Racing stadium. All that excitement… emotions running high… it was their idea of a feast."

"Azakaban must be terrible," Hiccup muttered. Johann nodded grimly. "The fortress is set on a tiny island, way out to sea, but they don't need walls and water to keep the prisoners in, not when they're all trapped inside their own heads, incapable of a single cheerful thought. Most of them go mad within weeks."

"But Alvin the Treacherous escaped from them," Hiccup said slowly. "He got away…"

Johann's trunk slipped from the desk; he had to stoop quickly to catch it.

"Yes," he said, straightening up." Alvin must have found a way to fight them. I wouldn't have believed it possible… Dementors are supposed to drain a Viking of his powers if he is left with them too long…"

"_You_ made that Dementor on the train back off," said Hiccup suddenly.

"There are—certain defences one can use," said Johann. "But there was only one Dementor on the train. The more there are, the more difficult it becomes to resist."

"What defences?" said Hiccup at once. "Can you teach me?"

"I don't pretend to be an expert at fighting Dementors, Hiccup—quite the contrary…"

Johann looked into Hiccup's determined face, hesitated, then said, "But if the Dementors are taking an interest in you… then I'll try to help. But it'll have to wait until next term, I'm afraid. I have a lot to do before the holidays. I chose a very inconvenient time to fall ill."

* * *

What with the promise of Anti-Dementor lessons from Johann, the thought that he might never have to hear his mouther's death again, and the fact that Ravenclaw flattened Hufflepuff in their Dragon Racing match at the end of November. Hiccup's mood took a definite upturn. Gryffindor were not out of the running after all, although they could not afford to lose another match Eret became repossessed of his manic energy, and worked his team as hard as ever in the chilly haze of rain that persisted into December. Hiccup saw no hint of a Dementor upon the lake. Heyral's anger seemed to be keeping them at their stations at the entrances.

Two weeks before the end of term, the sky lightened suddenly to a dazzling, opaline white and muddy grass were revealed one morning covered in glittering frost. Inside the mountain, there was a buzz of Snoggletog in the air. Flitwick the Charmer, the Core Magic Master, had already decorated his classroom with shimmering lights. The students were all happily discussing their plans for the holidays. Both Astrid and Ragnar had decided to remain at Berk, and though Astrid said it was because she couldn't stand two weeks with Sven, and Ragnar insisted he need to use the library, Hiccup wasn't fooled; they were doing it to keep him company, and he was very grateful.

To everyone's delight except Hiccup's there was to be another Berksmeade trop on the very last weekend of term.

"We can do all our Snoggletog shopping there!" said Ragnar. "Mum would really love those Toothflossing Stringmints from Berksmeade!"

Resigned to the fact that he would be the only third-year staying behind again, Hiccup borrowed a copy of _Which Saddle_ from Eret, and decided to spend the day reading up on the different makes. He had been riding one of the academy's saddles at team practice, and even though Toothless was feeling a lot better now, he still could fly because of his missing tailfin, so Astrid had very kindly let him use Stormfly during practise, the ancient Shooting Star, which was very slow and jerky, and the fact that he and Stormfly didn't have bond proved that he needed a new saddle and think of a way to make Toothless fly or else he needed a new dragon and that was thought he could bare thinking about.

During their last Soothsaying lesson, after Gothi tried to teach them the different way to read cracks in bones, Hiccup told Astrid and Ragnar that he needed to go back for something.

"What is it dear," said Gothi, without looking at him. "If you're late for Phlegma Transfiguration lesson she'll never forgive me."

"I only want to talk to you about… about the Signpost to Valhalla," said Hiccup.

Gothi turned to face him with a curious look on her face. "Please have a seat."

Hiccup sat down and began explaining how he saw the big, black dog the day he ran away from his aunt and uncles and saw it before he had nearly been run over by the Dragon Night Bus and saw it again before falling fifty feet off of Toothless.

"What do you think?" said Hiccup.

"To be honours my dear, I don't know," said Gothi. "But it is clearly a sigh that something big in your life is going to happen. What it is I don't know." She then looked at him with an even more curious look on her face. "But there's something else you want discus… your dragon Toothless, perhaps."

"He's missing a tailfin, he'll never fly again and it's all my fault," said Hiccup.

"Tell me, dear, did you ask the Dementors to show up? No you did not!" said Gothi. "And besides never is a long time and you and Toothless have many more adventures to come. You just need the right _tools_."

Hiccup looked up at her, as an idea came to his head.

"Thank you," said Hiccup getting up and left Goith alone.

On the Saturday morning of the Berksmeade trip, Hiccup bid goodbye to Astrid and Ragnar, who were wrapping in capes and scarves, then turned up the marble staircase alone, and headed back towards the Gryffindor Common Room. Snow had started to fall outside the windows, and the castle was very still and quiet.

"Psst—Hiccup!"

He turned, halfway along the third-floor corridor to see Double and Trouble peering out at him from behind a statue of a humpbacked, one-eyed Valkyrie.

"We've come to give you a bit of festive cheer before we go," said Double, with a mysterious wink. "Come in here…"

He nodded towards an empty classroom to left of the one-eyed statue. Hiccup followed Double and Trouble inside. Trouble closed the door quietly and then turned, beaming, to look at Hiccup.

"Early Snoggletog present for you, Hiccup." He said.

Double pulled something from inside his vest pocket with a flourish and laid it one of the desks. It was large, square, very worn piece of parchment with nothing written on it.

"An old bit of parchment," said Hiccup, suspecting it to be one of Double and Trouble's jokes, "just what I always wanted."

"This isn't just some old bit of parchment, Hiccup," said Double.

"This, Hiccup, is the secret of our success," said Trouble, "but we decided last night, your need's are greater than ours."

"Anyway, we know it off by heart," said Double. "We bequeath it to you. We don't really need it anymore."

"Then mind explain how a bit of old parchment is supposed to get to Berksmeade?" said Hiccup.

"A bit of old parchment!" said Double, closing his eyes with a grimace as though Hiccup had mortally offended him.

"You see Hiccup, when we were in our first year, young, carefree and innocent."

Hiccup raised an eyebrow. He doubted whether Double and Trouble had ever been innocent.

"—well, more innocent than we are now—we got into a spot of bother with Mildew."

"We let off a Dungbomb in the corridor and it upset him for some reason—"

"So he hauled us off to his house and started threatening us with the usual—"

"—detention—"

"—disembowelment—"

"—and we couldn't help noticing a drawer in one of his filing cabinets marked _Confiscated and Highly Dangerous_."

"You didn't—" said Hiccup, starting to grin.

"We did," said Trouble grinning.

"What would you've done?" said Double. "Trouble caused a diversion by dropping another Dungbomb, I whipped the drawer open and grabbed—_this_."

"It's not as bad as it sounds, you know," said Trouble. "We don't reckon Mildew ever found out how to work it. He probably suspected what it was, though, or he wouldn't have confiscated it."

"And you know how to work it?"

"Oh yes," said Double, smirking. "This little beauty's taught us more than all the teachers in this academy."

"You've got to be kidding me," said Hiccup, looking at the ragged old bit of parchment.

"Oh, we're quite serious," said Trouble.

He took out his axe, touched the parchment lightly and said, "_I solemnly swear that I am up to no good_."

And at once, thin ink lines began to spread like a spider's web from the point that Trouble's axe had touched. They joined each other, they criss-crossed, they fanned into every corner of the parchment; then words began to blossom across the top, great, curly green words, that proclaimed:

_Messers Monny, Wormtail, Padfoot, Forge and Fangs_

_Purveyors of Aids to Magical Mischief-Makers_

_And proud to present_

_THE MARAUDER'S MAP_

It was a map showing every detail of the Berk fort. But the truly remarkable thing was the tiny ink dots moving around it, each labelled with a name in minuscule writing. Astounded, Hiccup bent over it. A labelled dot in the top left corner showed that Heyral was pacing in his house; the caretaker's sheep, Fungus, was prowling the second floor, and Peeves the Poltergeist was currently bouncing around the trophy room. And as Hiccup's eyes travelled up and down the familiar corridors, he noticed something else.

The map showed a set of passages he had never entered. And many of them seemed to lead—

"Right into Berksmeade," said Double, tracing one of them with his finger. "There are seven in all. Now, Mildew knows about four—" he pointed them out, "—but we're sure we're the only ones who know about _these_. Don't bother with the one behind the mirror on the fourth floor. We used it until last winter, but it's caved in—completely blocked. And we don't reckon anyone's ever used this one, because the Whomping Willow's planted right over the entrance. But this one here, this one leads right into the cellar of Honeydukes. "We've used it loads of times. And as you might've noticed, the entrance is right outside this room, through that one-eyed old crone's hump."

"Monny, Wormtail, Padfoot and Fangs," sighed Trouble, patting the head of the map. "We owe them so much."

"Noble men, working tirelessly to help a new generation of law-breakers," said Double solemnly.

"Right," said Trouble briskly, "don't forget to wipe it after you've used it—"

"—or anyone can read it," Double said warningly.

"Just tap it again and say, 'Mischief managed!' And it'll go blank."

"Why give it to me?" said Hiccup looking at them questionably. "I would have thought you'd give it to Ruff and Tuff?"

"Ah, those two have defiantly got the makes of mischief-makers," said Double.

"But they lack the certain unpredictable that you have, Hiccup," said Trouble.

"So, young Hiccup," said Double, in an uncanny impersonation of Sven, "mind you behave yourself."

"See you in Berksmeade," said Trouble, winking.

They left the room, both smirking in a satisfied sort of way.

Hiccup stood there, gazing at the miraculous map. He watched the tiny ink Fungus turn left and pause to sniff at something on the floor. If Mildew really didn't know… he wouldn't have to pass the Dementors at all…

But even as he stood there, flooded with excitement, something Hiccup had once heard Mr Hofferson say came floating out of his memory.

_Never trust anything that can think for itself, if you can't see where it keeps its brain._

This map was one of those dangerous magical objects Mr Hofferson had been warning against… _Aids for Magical Mischief Makers_… but then, Hiccup reasoned, he only wanted to use it to get into Berksmeade, it wasn't as though he wanted to steal anything or attack anyone… and Double and Trouble had been using it for years without anything horrible happening…

Hiccup traced the secret passage to Honeydukes with his finger.

Then, quite suddenly, as though following orders, he rolled up the map, stuffed it inside his fur vest, and hurried to the door of the classroom. He opened it a couple of inches. There was no one outside. Very carefully, he edged out of the room and slipped behind the statue of the one-eyed Valkyrie.

What did he have to do? He pulled out the map again and saw to his astonishment, that a new ink figure had appeared upon it, labelled "Hiccup Horrendous Haddock III". This figure was standing exactly where the real Hiccup was standing, about halfway down the third-floor corridor. Hiccup watched carefully. His little ink self-appeared to be tapping the Valkyrie with his minute sword. Hiccup quickly took out his real sword and tapped the statue. Nothing happened. He looked back at the map. The theist speech bubble had appeared next to his figure. The word inside said "_Endeavour_".

"Endeavour!" Hiccup whispered tapping the stone Valkyrie again.

At once, the statue's hump opened wide enough to admit a fairly thin person. Hiccup glanced quickly up and down the corridor, then tucked the map away again, hoisted himself into the hole headfirst, and pushed himself forwards.

He slid a considerable way down what felt like a stone slide, then landed on cold, damp earth. He stood up, looking around. It was pitch dark. He held his hand out and created a fireball to shed some light on his surroundings and saw that he was in a very narrow, low, earthy passageway. He pulled out his sword, raised the map, tapped it with the tip of his sword and muttered, "Mischief managed!" The map went blank at once. He folded it carefully, tucked it inside his fur vest, then, heart beating fast, both excited and apprehensive, he set off.

The passage twisted and turned, Hiccup could tell at once that this tunnel was made by a Whispering Death after being in the tunnel of it large cousin the Screaming Death. Hiccup hurried along it, stumbling now and then on the uneven floor, holding the fireball out in front of him.

It took ages, but Hiccup had the thought of Honeydukes to sustain him. After what felt like an hour, the passage began to rise. Painting, Hiccup sped up, his face hot, his feet very cold.

Ten minutes later, he came to the foot of some worn, stone steps which rose out of sight above him. Careful not to make any noise, Hiccup began to climb. A hundred steps, two hundred steps, he lost count as he climbed, watching his feet… then, without warning, his head hit something hard.

It seemed to be a trapdoor. Hiccup stood there, massaging the top of his head, listening. He couldn't hear any sound above him. Very slowly, he pushed the trapdoor open and peered over the edge.

He was in a cellar which was full of wooden crates and boxes. Hiccup climbed out of the trapdoor and replaced it—it blended so perfectly with the dusty floor that it was impossible to tell it was there. Hiccup crept slowly towards the wooden staircase that led upstairs. Now he could definitely hear voices, not to mention the tinkle of a bell and the opening and shutting of a door.

Wondering what he ought to do, he suddenly heard a door open much closer at hand; somebody was about to come downstairs.

"And get another box of Jelly Slugs, dear, they've nearly cleaned us out—" said a woman's voice.

A pair of feet was coming down the staircase. Hiccup leapt behind an enormous crate and waited for the footsteps to pass. He heard the man shifting boxes against the wall opposite. He might not get another chance—

Quickly and silently, Hiccup dodged out from his hiding place and climbed the stairs; looking back, he saw an enormous backside and a shiny bald head buried in a box. Hiccup reached the door at the top of the stairs, slipped through it, and found himself behind the counter of Honeydukes—he ducked, crept sideways and then straightened up.

Honeydukes was so crowded with Berk students that no one looked twice at Hiccup. He edged amongst them, looking around, and suppressed a laugh as he imagined the look that would spread over Olaf's piggy face if he could see where Hiccup was now.

There were shelves upon shelves of the most succulent-looking sweets imaginable. Creamy chunks of nougat, shimmering pink squares of coconut ice, fat, honey-coloured toffees; hundreds of different kinds of chocolate in neat rows; there was a large barrel of Every Flavour Beans, and another of Fizzing Whizzbees, the levitating sherbet balls that Astrid had mentioned; along yet another wall were "Special Effects" sweets: Droobles Best Blowing Gum (which filled a room with bluebell-coloured bubbles that refused to pop for days), the strange, splintery Toothflossing Stringmints, tiny Pepper Dragons ("breathe fire for your friends!"), Ice Mice ("hear your teeth chatter and squeak!"), peppermints creams shaped like toads ("hop realistically in the stomach!"), fragile super-spun quills and exploding bonbons.

Hiccup squeezed himself through a crowd of sixth-years and saw a sign hanging in the furthest corner of the shop ("Unusual Tastes"). Astrid and Ragnar were standing underneath it, examining a try of blood-flavoured lollipops. Hiccup sneaked up behind them.

"Urgh, no, Hiccup won't one of those, they're of dark-elves and other human like creatures that have a taste for human blood, I expect," Ragnar was saying.

"How about these?" said Astrid, shoving a jar of Cockroach Cluster under Ragnar's noise.

"Definitely not," said Hiccup.

Astrid nearly dropped the jar.

"_Hiccup!_" yelled Ragnar. "What in the name of Thor are you doing here? And how—how did you—?"

"Have you learnt to use Teleportation Magic?" Astrid asked.

"'Course not," said Hiccup. He dropped his voice so that none of the sixth-years could hear him and told them all about the Marauder's Map.

"How come Double and Trouble never gave it to _me_!" said Astrid, outraged. "I'm their sister."

"Let me guess, you're not going to hand it over to Phlegma, aren't you," said Ragnar.

"If he did that he might as well hand over his Invisibility Cape," said Astrid.

"If I hand it in, I'll have to say where I got it! Mildew would know Double and Trouble had stolen it!"

"But what about Alvin the Treacherous?" Ragnar hissed. "He could be using one of the passages on that map to get into the fort! The teachers have to know!"

"He can't be getting in through a passage," said Hiccup quickly. "There are seven secret tunnels on the map, right? Double and Trouble reckon Mildew already knows about four of them. And the other three—one of them's caved in, so no one can get through it. One of them's got the Whomping Willow planted over the entrance, so you can't get out of it. And the one I just came through—well—it's really hard to see the entrance to it down in the cellar—so unless he knew it was there—"

Hiccup hesitated. What id Alvin did know the passage was there? Astrid, however, cleared his throat significantly, and pointed to a notice pasted on the inside of the sweetshop door.

_BY ORDER OF THE MINISTRY OF MAGIC_

_Customers are reminded that until further notice, Dementors will be patrolling the street of Berksmeade every night after sundown. This measure has been put in place for the safety of Berksmeade residents and will be lifted upon the recapture of Alvin the Treacherous. It is therefore advisable that you complete your shopping well before nightfall._

_Happy Snoggletog!_

"See?" said Astrid quietly. "I'd like to see Alvin try and break into Honeydukes with Dementors swarming all over the village. Anyway, Rag, the Honeydukes owners would hear a break in, wouldn't they? They live over the shop!"

"Yes, but—but—" Ragnar seemed to be struggling to find another problem. "Look, Hiccup still shouldn't be coming into Berksmeade, he hasn't got a signed form! If anyone finds out, he'll be in big trouble! And it's not nightfall yet—what if Alvin the Treacherous turns up today? Now?"

"He's have a job spotting Hiccup in this," said Astrid, nodding through the mullioned windows at the thick, swirling snow. "Come on, Rag, it's Snoggletog, Hiccup deserves a break."

Ragnar looked as if he wanted to argue some more, but sighed in defeat.

"Fine, since its Snoggletog," said Ragnar crossing his arms. "I just don't want my best mate murdered that's all."

"Don't worry, Rag, I'll be fine," said Hiccup placing a hand on Ragnar's shoulder.

After Astrid and Ragnar had paid for all their sweets, the three of them left Honeydukes for the blizzard outside.

Berksmeade looked like a Snoggletog card; the little thatched cottages and shops were all covered in a layer of crisp snow; there were holly wreaths on the doors and strings of enchanted torches hanging in the trees.

Hiccup shivered; unlike the other two, he didn't have his cape. They headed pp the street, heads bowed against the wind, Astrid and Ragnar shouting through their scarves.

"That's the Post Office—"

"Zonko's is up there—"

"We could go up to the Shrieking Shack—"

"Tell you what," said Astrid, her teeth chattering, "shall we go for a Butterbeer in the Green Dragon?"

Hiccup was more than willing; the wind was fierce and his hands were freezing, so they crossed the road, and in a few minutes were entering tiny inn.

It was extremely crowded, noisy, warm and smoky. A curvy sort of woman with a pretty face a bunch of rowdy Dwarfs up at the bar.

"That's Rosmerta the Jolly," said Ragnar. "I'll get the drinks, shall I?" he added, going slightly red.

Hiccup and Astrid made their way to the back of the room, where there was a small, vacant table between the window and a handsome Snoggletog tree which stood next to the fireplace. Ragnar came back five minutes later, carrying three foaming tankards of hot Butterbeer.

"Happy Snoggletog!" Astrid said happily rising her tankard.

Hiccup drank deeply. It was the most delicious thing he'd ever tasted and seemed to hear every bit of him from the inside.

A sudden breeze ruffled his hair. The door of the Green Dragon had opened again. Hiccup looked over the rim of his tankard and choked.

Phlegma and Flitwick had just entered the pub in a flurry of snowflakes, shortly followed by Gobber, who was deep in conversation with Fudge the Mighty, Minister for Magic.

In an instant, Astrid and Ragnar had both placed hands on the top of Hiccup's head and forced him off his stool and under the table. Dripping with Butterbeeer and crouching out of sight, Hiccup clutched his empty tankard and watched the teachers' and Fudge's feet move towards the bar, pause, then turn and walk right towards him.

Ragnar quickly did a bit of Wind Magic to lift the Snoggletog tree beside their table and drifted sideways and landed it right in front of their table, hiding them from view. Staring through the dense lower branches, Hiccup saw four sets of chair legs move back from the table right beside theirs, then heard the grunts and sighs of the teachers and Minister as they sat down.

Next he saw another pair of feet, wearing sparkly turquoise high heels, and heard a woman's voice.

"A small Gillywater—"

"Mine," said Phlegma's voice.

"Four pints of mulled mead—"

"Ta, Rosmerta," said Gobber.

"A cherry syrup and soda and umbrella—"

"Mmm!" said Flitwick, smacking his lips.

"So you'll be the redcurrant rum, Minster."

"Thank you, Rosmerta, m'dear," said Fudge's voice. "Lovely you see you again, I must say. Have one yourself, won't you? come and join us…"

"Well, thank you very much, Minister."

Hiccup watched the glittering heels march away and back again. His heart was pounding uncomfortably in his throat. Why hasn't it occurred to him that this was the last weekend of term for the teachers, too? And how long were they going to sit there? He needed to sneak back into Honeydukes if he wanted to return to the academy tonight… Astrid's leg gave a nervous twitch next to him.

"So, what brings you to this neck of the woods, Minister?" came Rosmerta's voice.

Hiccup saw the lower part of Fudge's thick body twist in his chair as though he was checking for eavesdroppers. Then he said in a quiet voice, "What else, m'dear, but Alvin the Treacherous? I daresay you heard what happened up at academy at Hallowe'en?"

"I did hear a rumour," admitted Rosmerta.

"Did you tell the whole pub, Gobber?" said Phlegma exasperatedly.

"Do you think Alvin's still in the area, Minister?" whispered Rosmerta.

"I'm sure of it," said Fudge shortly.

"You know that the Dementors have searched my pub twice?" said Rosmerta, a slightly edge to her voice. "Scared all my customers away… it's very bad for business, Minster."

"Rosmerta, m'dear, I don't like them any more than you do," said Fudge uncomfortably. "Necessary precaution… unfortunate, but there you are… I've just met some of them. They're in a fury against Heyral—he won't let them patrol around the fort."

"I should think not," said Phlegma sharply. "How are we supposed to teach with those horrors floating around?"

"I'll drink ter that," said Gobber.

"Hear, hear!" squeaked tiny Flitwick, whose feet were dangling a foot from the ground.

"All the same," demurred Fudge, "they are here to protect you all from something much worse… we all know what Alvin's capable of…"

"Do you know, I still have trouble believing it," said Rosmerta thoughtfully. "Of all the people to go over the Dark side, Alvin was the last I'd have thought… I mean, I remember him when he was a boy at Berk. If you'd told me then what he was going to become, I'd have said you'd had too much mead."

"You don't know the half of it, Rosmerta," said Fudge gruffly. "The worst he did isn't widely known."

"The worst?" said Rosmerta, her voice alive with curiosity. "Worse than murdering all those people, you mean?"

"I certainly do," said Fudge.

"I can't believe that. What could possibly be worse?"

"You say you remember him at Berk, Rosmerta," murmured Phlegma. "Do you remember who his best friend was?"

"Naturally," said Rosmerta, with a small laugh. "Never saw one without the other, did you? The number of times I had them in here—ooh, they used to make me laugh. Quite the double act, Alvin Blackson and Stoick Haddock!"

Hiccup dropped his tankard with a loud clunk. Astrid kicked him.

"Precisely," said Phlegma. "Alvin and Stoick. Ringleaders of their little gang. You were a member too Gobber if I recall even after you were expelled."

"Aye, those were days," said Gobber cheerfully.

"I admit they were both bright, but I don't think Berk has ever had such a pair of troublemakers—"

"I dunno about that," chuckled Gobber. "Those Hofferson twins could give us an our money. And I'm not count the Thorston twins out either."

"You'd have thought Alvin and Stoick were brothers!" chimed in Flitwick. "Inseparable!"

"Of course they were," said Fudge. "Stoick trusted Alvin beyond all his other friends that was why he was called Alvin the Trusting. No offence, Gobber."

"Ah, known taken," said Gobber.

"Anyway, nothing changed when they left the academy. Almost at once their little gang became an army to fight against the Dragon Lord, led by Stoick and Alvin was his second in command. Then was Stoick's best man when he married Valka. And after young Hiccup was born they named him his godfather. Hiccup had no idea, of course. You can imagine how the idea would torment him."

"Aye, I had to lie and told Hiccup had his friends that Alvin was dead," said Gobber.

"Not a total lie, Gobber," said Phlegma saddly, "the Alvin we knew when we were young is long dead."

"Way tell him that, because Alvin turned out to be in league with the Dragon Lord?" whispered Rosmerta.

"Worse even than that, m'dear…" Fudge dropped his voice and proceeded in a sort of low rumble. "Not many people are aware that the Dragon Lord was after the last of the Haddock clan, we're not sure why, but it was not because Stoick was the leader of our little army. Heyral, while not the leader was Stoick adviser, had a number of useful spies that were leaking information to him. Well, one of them tipped him off, and he alerted Stoick and Valka at once. He advised them to go into hiding and he'll take over until the danger passed. Well of course, the Dragon Lord wasn't an easy person to his from. Heyral told them that their best chance was the Holy Shield of Asgard."

"How does that work?" said Rosmerta, breathless with interest. Flitwick cleared his throat.

"An immensely complex bit of Light Magic," he said squeakily, "involving the magical concealment of a secret inside a single, living soul. The information is hidden inside the chosen person, or Secret-Keeper, and in henceforth impossible to find—unless, of course, the Secret-Keeper chooses to divulge it. As long as the Secret-Keeper refused to speak, the Dragon Lord could search the village where Valka and Stoick were staying for years and never find them, not even if he had his nose pressed against their sitting-room window!"

"So Alvin was the Haddocks' Secret-Keeper?" whispered Rosmerta.

"Naturally," said Phlegma. "Stoick told Heyral that Alvin would die rather than tell where they were, that Alvin was planning to go into hiding himself… and yet, Heyral remained worried. I remember him offering to be the Haddocks' Secret-Keeper himself."

"He suspected Alvin?" gasped Rosmerta.

"He was sure that somebody close to the Haddocks had been keeping the Dragon Lord informed of their movements," said Phlegma darkly. "Indeed, he had suspected for some time that someone on our side had turned traitor and was passing lot of information to the Dragon Lord."

"But Stoick insisted on using Alvin?"

"He sis," said Fudge heavily. "And then, barely a week after the Holy Shield of Asgard had been performed—"

"Alvin betrayed them?" breathed Rosmerta.

"He did indeed. Alvin tried of his double-agent role, he was ready to declare his support openly for the Dragon Lord, and he seemed to have planned this for the moment of the Haddocks' death. But, as we all know, the Dragon Lord met his downfall in little Hiccup Haddock. Powers gone, horribly weakened, he fled. And this left Alvin in a very nasty position indeed. His Master had fallen at the very moment when he, Alvin, had shown his true colours as a traitor. He had no choice but to run for it—"

"I musta bin the last ter see him before he killed all them people!" Gobber growled. "I met him at the remains of Stoick and Valka's house… no doubt wanting to kill Hiccup before I got there… anyway he helped him rescue Hiccup, the poor little guy, with a great slash across his forehead. I didn't know at the time that he was Stoick and Valka's Secret-Keeper. I thought he'd just head the news o' the Dragon Lord's attack an' come ter see what he could do. White an' shakin', he was. An' yeh know what I did? I COMFORTED THE MURDERIN' TRAITOR!" Gobber roared.

"Gobber, calm down," said Phlegma. "I share your anger, but don't lose your head!"

"How was ter know he wasn' upset abou' Stoick and Valka? It was the Dragon Lord he cared about'! An' then he says, 'Give Hiccup ter e, Gob, I'm his godfather, I'll look after him—' Ha! But I'd had me orders from Heyral, an' I told Alvin no, Heyral said Hiccup was ter go ter his aunt an' uncle's. Alvin argued, but in the end gave in. Told me ter look after Groundsplitter."

Hiccup dropped his tankard again. Groundsplitter was Alvin's dragon and he rode on him.

"I shoulda known there was somethin' fishy goin' on then. He always treated Groundsplitter like family. He always had a saying ya know–'Never count someone dead, until you see their body right in front of them—'! If that's not proof that he was on the Dragon Lord side I don't know what is! Alvin meanly showed up to find the remains of his Master, but Heyral knew he'd bin the Haddocks' Secret-Keeper. Alvin knew he was goin' ter have ter run fer it that night, knew it was matter o' hours before the Ministry was after him."

"_But what if I'd given Hiccup to him, eh?_ I bet he'd've taken Groundsplitter halfway out ter sea. Hid bes' friend's son! But when a Viking goes over ter the dark side, there's nothing' and no one that matters to 'em any more…"

"Wasn't he engaged," said Rosmerta.

"Yes, and that's something we'd like to keep quiet… especially to Hiccup and his friend Ragnar Keatson," said Phlegma sadly. "You see the woman that he was going to marry was Freida Keatson."

Hiccup heard a tankard fall behind him and guessed it was Ragnar. Hiccup didn't like the way this conversion was going less and less.

A long silence fell upon everyone. Then Rosmerta said with some satisfaction, "Alvin didn't manage to disappear, did he? The Ministry of Magic caught up with him next day!"

"Alas, if only we had," said Fudge bitterly. "It was not we who found him. It was Savage the Snivelling—another of the Haddocks' friends. Maddened by grief, no doubt, and knowing that Alvin had been the Haddocks' Secret-Keeper, he went after Alvin himself."

"Savage… that lanky little boy who was always tagging around after them at Berk?" said Rosmerta.

"Hero-worshipping Stoick and Alvin," said Phlegma. "Never quite in their league, talent-wise. I called him a coward more than once. You can imagine how I-how I regret that now…" She sounded as though she had a sudden head cold.

"There, now, Phlegma," said Fudge kindly, "Savage died a hero's death. Eye-witness—Muggles, of course, we wiped their memories later—told us how Savage cornered Alvin. They say him shaking. "Stoick and Valka, Alvin! How could you!" And then went for his bone club. Well, of course, Alvin was quicker. Blew Savage to smithereens…"

Phlegma blew her nose and said thickly, "Stupid man… foolish oaf… he was always hopeless at duelling… should have left it to the Ministry…"

"I tell yeh, if I'd got ter Alvin before Savage did, I wouldn't've messes around with weapons and crystal eyes—I'd've ripped him limb—from—limb," Gobber growled.

"You don't know what you're talking about, Gobber, said Fudge sharply. "Nobody but trained Hit Vikings from the Magical Law Enforcement Squad would have stood a chance against Alvin once he was cornered. I was Junior Minister in the Department of Magical Catastrophes at the time, and I was one of the first on the scene after Alvin murdered all those people. I—I will never forget it. I still dream about it sometimes. A crate in the middle of the street, so deep it had cracked the sewer below. Bodies everywhere. Muggle screaming. And Alvin standing there laughing, with what was left of Savage in front of him… a blood-stained cape and helmet and a few—a few fragments—"

Fudge's voice stopped abruptly. There was the sound of five noses being blown.

"Well, there you have it, Rosmerta," said Fudge thickly. "Alvin was taken away by twenty members of the Magical Law Enforcement Patrol and Savage received the Order of Haddock, First Class, which I think was some comfort to his poor mother. Alvin's been in Azkaban ever since."

Rodmerta let out a long sigh.

"Is it true he'd mad, Minister?"

"I wish I could say that he was," said Fudge slowly. "I certainly believe his master's defeat unhinged him for a while. The murder of Savage and all those Muggles was the action of a cornered and desperate man—cruel… pointless. Yet I met Alvin on my last inspection of Azkaban. You know, most of the prisoners in there sit muttering to themselves in the dark, there's no sense in them… but I was shocked at how _normal_ Alvin seemed. He spoke quite merely bored—asked if I'd finished with my newspaper, cool as you please, said he missed doing the crossword. Yes, I was astounded at how little effect the Demenots seemed to be having on him—and he was one of the most heavily guarded in the place, you know. Dementors outside his door, day and night."

"But what do you think, he's broken out to do?" said Rosmerta. "Good gracious, Minister, he isn't trying to re-join the Dragon Lord, is he?"

"I daresay that is his—uh—eventual plan," said Fudge evasively. "But we hope to catch Alvin long before that. I must say, the Dragon Lord alone and friendless is one thing… but give him back his most devoted servant, and I shudder to think how quickly he'll raise again…"

There was a small chink of glass on wood. Someone had set down their glass.

"You know, Fudge, if you're dining with the Headmaster we'd better head back up to the fort," said Phlegma.

One by one, the pairs of feet in front of Hiccup took the weight of their owners once more; hems of capes swung into sight and Rosmerta's glittering heels disappeared behind the bar. The door of the Green Dragon opened again, there was another flurry of snow, and the teachers disappeared.

"Hiccup?"

Astrid and Ragnar faces appeared under the table. They were both staring at him, lost for words.


	11. The Firebolt

Hiccup didn't have a very clear idea how he had managed to get back into the Honeydukes cellar, through the tunnel and into the fort once more. All he knew was that the return trip seemed to take no time at all, and that he hardly noticed what he was doing, because his head was still pounding with the conversation he had just heard.

Why had nobody ever told him? Heyral, Gobber, Phlegma, Mr Hofferson, Fudge… why hadn't anyone ever mentioned the fact that Hiccup's parents had died because their best friend had betrayed them?

He was wondering if Ragnar was going through the same thing. They could have at least told him that his father was a murderous Viking criminal. It also explained why his mother was uneasy when she left him at the Leaky Cauldron.

Astrid and Ragnar watched Hiccup nervously all through dinner, not daring to talk about what they'd overheard, because Sven was sitting close by them. When they went upstairs to the crowded common room, it was to find Double and Trouble had set off half-a-dozen Dungbombs in a fit end-of-term high spirits. Hiccup, who didn't want Double and Trouble asking him whether he'd reached Berksmeade or not, sneaked quietly up to the empty dormitory, and headed straight for his bedside cabinet. He pushed his books aside and quickly found what he was looking for—the leather-bound photo album Gobber had given him two years ago, which was full of Viking pictures of his mother and father. He sat down on his bed, drew the blanket over him, and started turning the pages, searching, until…

He stopped on a picture of his parents' wedding day. There was his mountain of a father waving up at him, beaming, his emerald green eyed Hiccup ad inherited sparkling. There was his mother, alight with happiness, arm in arm with his Dad. And there… that must be him. Their best man… Hiccup had never given him thought before.

If he hadn't known it was the same person, he would never have guessed it was Alvin in this old photograph. He looked like a bit like Ragnar and his face wasn't sunken and waxy, but handsome, full of laughter. Had he already been working for Heyral when this picture had been taken? Was he already planning the deaths of the two people next to him? Did he realise he was facing twelve years in Azkaban, twelve years which would make him unrecognisable?

_But the Dementors don't affect him_, Hiccup thought, staring into the handsome face, laughing face. _He doesn't have to hear my Mum screaming if they get too close_—

Hiccup slammed the album shut, reached over and stuffed it back into his cabinet, took off his clothes and pulled on his pyjamas going into bed making sure his blanket was covering.

The dormintory door opened.

"Hiccup?" said Astrid's voice uncertainly.

But Hiccup lay still, pretending to be asleep. He heard Astrid leave again, and rolled over on his back, his eyes wide open.

A hatred such as he had never known before was coursing through Hiccup like poison. He could see Alvin laughing at him through the darkness, as through somebody had pasted the picture from the album over his eyes. He watched, as though somebody was playing him a piece of film, Alvin the Treacherous blasting Savage the Snivelling (who resembled Tuffnut Thorston) into a thousand pieces. He could hear (though he had no idea what Alvin's voice might sound like) a low, excited mutter. "It has happened, my Lord… the Haddock's have made me their Secret-Keeper…" And then came another voice, laughing shrilly, the same laugh that Hiccup heard inside his head whenever the Dementors drew near.

* * *

"Hiccup, you—you look terrible."

Hiccup hadn't got to sleep until daybreak. He had awoken to find the dormitory deserted, dressed and gone down the spiral staircase to a common room that was completely empty except for Astrid, who was sharping her axe, and Ragnar, who had spread his homework over three tables.

"Where is everyone?" said Hiccup.

"Gone! Along with the dragons, except Toothless. It's the first day of the holidays, remember?" said Astrid watching Hiccup closely. "It's nearly lunchtime, Rag was going to come and wake you up in minute."

Hiccup slumped into a chair next to the fire. Snow was still falling outside the window. Amber was curled out in front of the fire.

"Hic, we need to talk," said Ragnar, looking at him sounding concerned.

"I'm fine," said Hiccup.

"Hiccup, listen," said Ragnar, exchanging a look with Astrid, "you must be really upset about what we heard yesterday—"

"I'm not holding your father against you," said Hiccup not looking. "We can't help our parentage."

"I was talking about you hating me for what my loving father did to you," said Ragnar crossly. "I'm just trying to tell you not to do something stupid."

"Like what?" said Hiccup.

"Like trying to go after Alvin," said Astrid sharply.

Hiccup could tell they had rehearsed this conversation while he had been asleep. He didn't say anything.

"You won't, will you, Hiccup?" said Ragnar.

"Because Alvin's not worth dying for," said Astrid.

Hiccup looked at them. They didn't seem to understand at all.

"D'you know what I see and hear every time a Dementor gets too near me?" Astrid and Ragnar shook their heads, looking apprehensive. "I can hear my mum screaming and pleading with Drago. And if you'd heard your mum screaming like that, just about to be killed, you wouldn't forget it in a hurry. And if you found out someone who was supposed to be a friend of hers betrayed her and sent Drago after her—"

"I'm just as angry as you, Hiccup," said Ragnar getting up. "He left my mother for an evil tyrant and then got my best mates parents killed. But the Dementors will catch him and he'll go back to Azkaban and—and serve him right!"

"You heard Fudge said. Alvin isn't affected by Azkaban like normal people are. It's not punishment for him like it is for the others."

"So what are you saying?" said Astrid, looking annoyed. "You want to kill Alvin or something?"

Hiccup didn't answer. He didn't know what he wanted to so. all he knew was that idea of doing nothing, while Alvin was at liberty, was almost more than he could stand.

"Snotlout knows," he said abruptly. "Remember what he said to me in Potions? 'If it was me, I'd hunt him down myself… I'd want revenage.'"

"You're going to take Snotlout's advice instead of ours?" said Astrid furiously. "Listen… you know what Savage's mother got back after Alvin had finished with him? Dad told me—the Order of Haddock, First Class, and Savage's finger in a box. That was the biggest bit of him they could find. Alvin's a madman, Hiccup and he's dangerous—"

"Snotlout's dad must have told him," said Hiccup, ignoring Astrid. "He was right in Drago's inner circle so obviously, the Jorgensons knew Alvin was working for Drago—"

"And Snotlout'd love to see you blown into about a million pieces, like Savage! Get a grip, Snotlout's just hoping you'll get yourself killed before he has to play you at Dragon Racing."

"Astrid's right, you'll be playing into Alvin's hands if you went looking for him. Your mum and dad wouldn't want you to get hurt, would they? They'd never want you to go looking for Alvin!"

"I'll never know what they'd have wanted because, thanks to Alvin, I've never spoken to them," said Hiccup shortly.

There was a silence, in which Amber stretched luxuriously, flexing her claws.

"The only good thing I can think of is that you and me, Rag, are brothers," said Hiccup. Ragnar smiled, but said nothing. "I'm not going to go looking for Alvin. But I hope he does find me, because then I'll be ready… then I'm going to kill him."

Astrid and Ragnar looked at each other and knew there was no talking Hiccup out of it.

"Look," said Astrid, placing her hands on her hips, "it's the holidays! It's nearly Snoggletog! Let's—let's go down and see Gobber. We haven't visited him for ages!"

"No!" said Ragnar quickly. "Hiccup isn't supposed to leave the mountain, Astrid—"

"Yeah, let's go," said Hiccup, sitting up, "and I can ask him how come he never mentioned Alvin when he told me about my parents and lied that he said he was dead!"

Further discussion of Alvin the Treacherous plainly wasn't what Astrid had had in mind.

"Or we could have a game of chess," she said hastily, "or Gobstones. Sven left a set—"

"No, let's visit Gobber," said Hiccup firmly.

So they set off through the portrait hole ("Stand and fight, you yellow-bellied mongrels!"), down through the empty castle and out through the oak front doors.

They made their way slowly down the lawn, making a shallow trench in glittering, powdery snow, their socks and heel of their boots soaked and freezing. They continued to walk until Gobber's house came into view.

Astrid poked in, but saw nobody.

"He's not out, is he?" said Ragnar, who was shivering.

Astrid poked her head in again and listened.

"There's a weird noise," she said. "Listen."

Hiccup and Ragnar listened, too. From inside the workshop came a series of low, throbbing moans.

"Think we'd better go and get someone?" said Ragnar nervously.

"Gobber!" called Hiccup. "Gobber, are you in there?"

There was a sound of heavy footsteps, then the form of Gobber came into view. Gobber looked at them with his eyes saddened with what looked like grief.

"Yeh've heard!" he bellowed, and flung himself onto Hiccup's neck.

Gobber being at least twice the size of a normal man, this was no laughing matter. Hiccup, about to collapse under Gobber's weight, was rescued by Astrid and Ragnar, who each seized Gobber under an arm and heaved him, Hiccup helping, back into the cabin. Gobber allowed himself to be steered into a chair and slumped over the table, he placed a hand on his temple and tears began to drip down his cheeks and onto his rope like moustache.

"Gobber, what _is_ it?" said Ragnar, aghast.

Hiccup spotted an official-looking letter lying open on the table.

"What's this, Gobber?"

Gobber's sobs redoubled, but he shoved the letter towards Hiccup, who picked it up and read aloud:

_Dear Gobber the Belch_

_Further to our inquiry into the attack by a Whispering Death on a student in your class, we have accepted the assurances of Heyral that you bear no responsibility for the regrettable incident._

"Well, that's okay, then, Gobber!" said Astrid, clapping Gobber on the shoulder. But Gobber didn't look as if this was good news.

"Read on," he said, not looking.

_However, we must register our concern about the Whispering Death in question. We have decided to uphold the official complaint of Spitelout the Stern, and this matter will therefore be taken to the Committee for the Disposal of Dangerous Creatures. The hearing will take place on April 29th, and we ask you to present yourself and your Whispering Death at the Committee's offices in London on that date. In the meantime, the Whispering should be kept tethered and isolated._

_Yours in fellowship…_

There followed a list of the school governors.

"Oh," said Astrid. "But I thought the killing of dragons was illegal for centenaries."

"That's not entirely true," said Ragnar sitting down on a chair. "If a dragon is proven dangerous then they can be executed."

A sudden sound from the corner of Gobber's workshop made Hiccup, Astrid and Ragnar whip around. Groundsplitter was lying in the corner, chomping on something that was oozing blood all over the floor. Even if he was the dragon of the murderer of his parents, Hiccup felt sorry for him.

"They won' even let him go on the migration with the other dragons!" Gobber muttered. "He once belonged ter a friend ya know and promised me to look after him. Fine job I'm going ain't I."

Hiccup, Astrid and Ragnar looked at each other. Hiccup would tell they were thinking of the same thing, even if Groundsplitter had been once Alvin's it wasn't his fault that he had an evil murders rider.

"You'll have to put up a good string defence, Gobber," said Ragnar.

"Won' make no diff'rence!" Gobber muttered. "Them Disposal demons, they're all in Spitelout's pocket! Scared o' him! An' if I lose the case, Groundsplitter—"

Gobber drew his finger swiftly across his throat.

"What about Heyral, Gobber?" said Hiccup.

"He's doen more'n enough fer me already," groaned Gobber. "Got enough on his plate what with keepin' them Dementors outta the fort, and Alvin the Treacherous lurkin' around—"

Astrid and Ragnar looked quickly at Hiccup, as though expecting him to start berating Gobber for not telling him the truth about Alvin. But Hiccup couldn't bring himself to do it, not now he saw Gobber so broken hearted.

"Listen, Gobber," he said, "you can't give up. Ragnar's right, you just need a good defence. You can call us as witnesses—"

"I'm sure I've read about a case of dragon-baiting," said Ragnar thoughtfully, "where the dragon got off. I'll look it up for you, Gobber, and see exactly what happened."

Hiccup and Ragnar looked at Astrid to help them.

"Uh—shall I make a cup of coffee?" said Astrid.

Hiccup stared at her.

"It's what my mum does whenever someone's upset," Astrid muttered, shrugging.

At last, after many more assurances of help, with a steaming mug of coffee in front of him, Gobber said, "Yer right I can' give up. Stoick would be shamed if it did…"

Gobber took a sip of coffee and looked at the three of them.

"I've not bin meself lately," said Gobber, placing the mug of coffee on the table. "Worried abou' Groundsplitter… and then there are those Dementors they make me feel terrible," he said, with a sudden shudder. "Gotta walk past 'em ev'ry time I want a drink in the Green Dragon. 'S like bein' back in Azkaban—"

He fell silent, gulping his coffee. Hiccup, Astrid and Ragnar watched him breathlessly. They had never heard Gobber talk about his brief spell in Azkaban before. After a brief pause, Ragnar said timidly, "Is it awful in there, Gobber?"

"Yeh've no idea," said Gobber quietly. "Never bin anywhere like it. Thought I was goin' mad. Kep' goin' over horrible stuff in me mind… the day I got expelled from Berk… day me Dad died… the day Stoick and Valka were killed…

"Yeh can't really remember who yeh are after a while. An' yeh can't see the point o' livin' at all. I used ter hope I'd jus' die in me sleep… when they let me out, it was like bein' born again, ev'rythin' came floodin' back, it was the bes' feelin' in the world. Mind, the Dementors weren't keen on lettin' me go."

"But you were innocent!" said Ragnar.

Gobber snorted.

"Think that matters to them? Their demons, Ragnar. Long as they've got a couple o' hundred humans stuck there with 'em, so they can leech all the happiness out of 'em, they don't give a damn who's guilty an' who's not."

Gobber went quiet for a moment, staring into his coffee. Then he said quietly, "Thought o' jus' letting Groundsplitter go… tryin' ter make him fly away… but how d'yeh explain ter a dragon it's gotta go inter hidin'? An'—an' I don' really want ter be breakin' the law…" He looked up at them, his eyes tearing up again. "I don' ever want ter go back ter Azkaban."

* * *

The trip to Gobber's, though far from fun, had nevertheless had the effect Astrid and Ragnar had hoped. Though Hiccup had by no means forgotten about Alvin, he couldn't brood constantly on revenge if he wanted to help Gobber win his case against the Committee for the Disposal of Dangerous Creatuers. He, Astrid and Ragnar went to the library next day, and returned to the empty common room laden with books which might help prepare a defence for Groundsplitter. The three of them sat in front of the roaring fire, slowly turning the pages of dusty volumes about famous cases of marauding beasts, speaking occasionally when they ran across something relevant.

"Here's something… there was a case in 1722… but the Griffin was convicted—urgh, look what they did to it, that's disgusting—"

"This might help, look—a Skrill savaged someone in 1296, and they let the Skrill off—of—no, that was only because everyone was too scared to go near it…"

Meanwhile, in the rest of the academy, the usual magnificent Snoggletog decorations had been put up, despite the fact that hardly any of the students remained to enjoy them. Thick streamers of holly and mistletoe were string along the corridors, mysterious lights shone inside every stone statue and the Great Hall was filled with its usual twelve Snoggletog trees, glittering with golden stars. A powerful and delicious smell of cooking pervaded the corridors, and by Snoggletog Eve, it had grown so string that even Scabber poked his nose out of the Astrid's satchel to sniff hopefully at the air.

On Snoggletog morning, Hiccup was woken by Ragnar throwing his pillow at him.

"Hey, sleepyhead! Presents!"

Hiccup squinted through the semi-darkness to the foot of his bed, where a small heap of parcels had appeared. Ragnar was already ripping the paper off his own presents.

"Mum's sent me some sugar-free treats again."

Hiccup had gotten another jumper from Mrs Hofferson, this time scarlet with the Gryffindor Monstrous Nightmare on the front, also a dozen home-baked minces pies, some Snoggletog cake and box of nut brittle. As he moved all these things aside, he saw a wide, thick package lying underneath.

"What's that?" said Ragnar, looking over, a unwrapped forging kit.

"No idea…"

Hiccup ripped the parcel open and gasped as a magnificent, gleaming saddle landed onto his bedspread, Ragnar dropped the forge kit and jumped off his bed for a closer look.

"That's not what I think it is… is it," he said hoarsely.

It was a Firebolt, identical to the dream broom Hiccup had gone to see every day in Diagon Alley. Its handle glittered as he picked it up. His eyes moved from the golden registration number on the reins right down to the perfectly smooth leather and the stickers.

"Who sent it to you?" said Ragnar in a hushed voice.

"Look and see if there's a card," said Hiccup.

Ragnar ripped apart the Firebolt's wrappings.

"Nothing!" he said worriedly, which surprised Hiccup. "Who'd spend that much on you?"

"Well," said Hiccup, feeling stunned, "I'm betting it wasn't the Dalssons."

Ragnar looked up at Hiccup and said, flatly, "Let's tell Astrid."

"Tell me about what?"

Astrid had just come in, wearing her dressing gown, with Scabbers on her shoulder. She then noticed the Firebolt and her mouth fell open at it.

"Oh, _Hiccup_! Who sent you _that_?"

"No idea," said Hiccup. "There wasn't a card or anything with it."

"I bet it was Heyral," said Astrid, now walking round and round the Firebolt, taking in every glorious inch. "He sent you the Invisibility Cape anonymously…"

"That was my dad's, though," said Hiccup. "Heyral was just passing it on to me."

"Besides, he would spend hundreds of Galleons on Hiccup. He can't go showing favouritism like this and incidentally how much do that thing cost."

"Probably cost more than all the Slytherins' saddles put together," said Astrid happily.

"Then… who'd send Hiccup something as expensive as that, and not even tell him they'd sent it?" said Ragnar.

"Who cares?" said Astrid, impatiently. "I just like to see _Snotlout's_ face when he sees Hiccup on this! He'll be sick as a pig! This is an _international_ standard saddle!"

"Which bring me back to the point of _who_—"

"I know," said Astrid. "I know who it could've been-Johann!"

"What?" said Hiccup and Ragnar together.

"_Johann_?" said Hiccup laughing. "Listen, if he had this much gold, he'd be able to buy himself some new cloths."

"Yeah, but he likes you," said Astrid. "And he was away when your Nimbus got smashed, and he might've heard about it and decided to visit Diagon Alley and get this for you—"

"What d'you mean, he was away?" said Hiccup. "He was ill when I was playing in that match."

"Well, he wasn't in the healing centre," said Astrid. "I was there cleaning out the bedpans on that detention from Grabbit, remember?"

Hiccup frowned at Astrid. Ragnar on the other hand was focusing at the Firebolt as if it was bomb ready to go off.

"I can't see Johann affording something like this," said Hiccup and then looked at Ragnar. "What do you think, Rag?"

Ragnar then turned his glaze from the Firebolt to Hiccup and Astrid. "Well, I have a few ideas, but I don't like to say."

He then got up and was in such a rush that he banged into Hiccup trunk, knocking it over. A shrill, tinny whistling was filling the room. The Pocket Sneakoscope had become dislodged from Uncle Magnus' old socks and was whirling and gleaming on the floor.

"I forgot about that!" Hiccup said, bending down and picked up the Sneakoscope whirled and whistled in his palm.

He then stuffed the Sneakoscope back inside the socks and threw into his trunk. Hiccup then noticed Scabbers and realised it had been a while since Hiccup had seen him out of Astrid's satchel, and he was unpleasantly surprised to see that Scabbers, once so fat, was now very skinny; patches of fur seemed to have fallen out, too.

"He's not looking too good, is he?" Hiccup said.

"It's stress!" said Astrid. "At least with that lump of scales isn't around to bother him over the holidays."

"Oh, come on…," Ragnar muttered, crossing his arms, "Blaming Amber when she's not even on the island."

But Hiccup, remembering what the woman said at the Magical Menagerie had said about rats only living three years, couldn't help feeling that unless Scabbers had powers he had never revealed, he was reaching the end of his life. And despite Astrid's frequent complaints that Scabbers was both boring and useless, he was sure Astrid would be very miserable if Scabbers died.

Snoggletog spirt was definitely thin on the ground in the Gryffindor common room that morning. Ragnar was studying his forge kit with great interest, but was furious with Astrid for blaming Amber for Scabbers stress when said dragon wasn't even on the island; Astrid was still fuming about Ragnar dismissal of Amber trying to eat Scabbers. Hiccup gave up trying to make them talk to each other, and devoted himself to examining the Firebolt, which he had brought down to the common room with him. For some reason this seemed to annoy Ragnar as well; he didn't say anything, but he kept looking darkly at the saddle as though it, too, had been criticising his Terrible Terror.

At lunchtime they went down to the Great Hall, to find that the house tables had been moved against the wall again, and that a single table, set for twelve, stood in the middle of the room. Heyral, Phlegma, Grabbit, Flora and Flitwick were there, along with Mildew, the caretaker, and three other students: two extremely nervous-looking first-years, and a sullen-faced Slytherin fifth-year.

"Happy Snoggletog," said Heyral, as Hiccup, Astrid and Ragnar approached the table. "As there are so few of us, it seemed foolish to use the house tables… sit down, sit down.

Hiccup, Astrid and Ragnar sat down side by side at the end of the table.

"Crackers!" said Heyral enthusiastically, offering the end of a large silver one to Grabbit, who took it reluctantly and tugged. With a bang like a gunshot, the cracker flew apart to reveal an old, rusty Viking helmet with large ram horns.

Hiccup remembered the Boggart, caught Astrid's eye and they both grinned; Grabbit mouth thinned and he pushed the helmet towards Heyral, who swapped it for his helmet at once.

"Tuck in!" he advised the table, beaming around.

As Hiccup was helping himself to roast potatoes, the doors of the side entrance opened again. It was Gothi hobbling her way in.

"Gothi, this is a pleasant surprise!" said Heyral, standing up.

"I have been smoke-gazing, Headmaster," said Gothi, in her mistiest voice, "and to my astonishment, I saw myself my solitary luncheon and coming to join you. Who am I to refuse the promptings of fate? I at once hastened from my hut on the mountain peak, and I do beg you to forgive my lateness…"

"Certainly, certainly," said Heyral, his eyes twinkling. "Let me draw you up a chair—"

And he did indeed draw a chair in mid-air with his axe prosthetic, which revolved for a few seconds before falling with a thud between Grabbit and Phlegma. Gothi, however, did not sit down, her eyes had been roving around the table, and she suddenly looked very worried.

"I dare not, Headmaster! You see I also came to warn you that one of the people present in this room will die. And no I realise why, because if I sit with you, we shall be thirteen! Never forget that when thirteen dine together, the first to rise will be the first to die!"

"We'll risk it, Gothi," said Phlegma impatiently. "Do sit down, the boar's getting stone cold."

Gothi hesitated, then lowered herself into the empty chair. Once she sat herself down, she looked around and said, "I see Johann is unable to join us."

"I'm afraid the poor fellow is ill again," said Heyral, indicating that everybody should start serving themselves. "Most unfortunate that id should happen on Snoggletog."

"Ah, of course," said Gothi in an understanding tone.

"I doubt that Johann id in any immediate danger," said Heyral, helping himself to a piece of boar. "Grabbit, you've made the Potion for him again?"

"Yes, Headmaster," said Grabbit.

"Good," said Heyral. "Then he should be up and about in no time… Dale, have you had any of those chipolatas? They're excellent."

The first year boy went furiously red on being addressed directly by Heyral, and took the platter of sausages with trembling hands.

Two hours later, full to bursting with Snoggletog dinner and still wearing their cracker helmets, Hiccup and Astrid got up first from the table and Gothi gasped.

"My dears! Which of you left your seat first?"

"Uh, no idea," said Astrid, looking uneasily at Hiccup.

"I doubt it will make much difference," said Phlegma coldly, "unless a mad axe-man is waiting to slaughter the first into the Entrance Hall."

Even Astrid laughed. Gothi looked highly affronted.

"Coming?" Hiccup said to Ragnar.

"No," said Ragnar muttered. "I want a quick word with Phlegma."

"Probably trying to see if he can take more classes," yawned Astrid as they made their way into the Entrance Hall, which was completely devoid of mad axe-men.

When they reached the portrait hole they found Cadogan enjoying a Snoggletog party with several pretty shield maids, which annoyed Astrid to no end. He pushed up his lopsided helmet and toasted them with a flagon of mead.

"Happy—hic—Snoggletog! Password!"

"Chieftain Chief," said Astrid gritting her teeth.

"And the same to you, m'lady," said Cadogan, as the painting swung forward to admit them.

Hiccup went straight up to the dormitory, collected his Firebolt and the Saddle Servicing Hit Ragnar had given him for his birthday, brought them downstairs and tried to find something to do to the Firebolt; however, there was no dust, and the saddle was so shiny already it seemed pointless to polish it. He and Astrid simply sat admiring it from every angle.

"You know it's great that you've got this," said Astrid. "But it's useless on Toothless."

Hiccup smirked. "Oh, I have an idea on how to get Toothless back into the air."

Before Astrid could ask what he meant by that, the portrait hole opened, and Ragnar came in, accompanied by Phlegma.

Though Phlegma was Head of Gryffindor house, Hiccup only seen her in the common room once before, and that had been to make a very grave announcement. He and Astrid stared at her, both holding the Firebolt. Ragnar walked past them and picked up his forging kit.

"So that's it, is it?" said Phlegma beadily, walking over to the fireside and staring at the Firebolt. "Keatson has just informed me that you have been sent a saddle, Haddock."

Hiccup and Astrid looked around at Ragnar, who could not bear to look them in the eye.

"May I?" said Phlegma, but she didn't wait for answer before pulling the Firebolt out of their hands. She examined it carefully. "Hmm. And there was no note at all, Haddock? No card? No message of any kind?"

"No," said Hiccup blankly.

"I see…" said Phlegma. "Well, I'm afraid I will have to take this, Haddock."

"W-what?" said Hiccup, scrambling to his feet. "Why?"

"It will need to checked," said Phlegma. "Of course. I'm no expert, but I daresay Madam Hooch and Flitwick will strip it down—"

"Strip it down?" repeated Astrid, as though Phlegma was mad.

"It shouldn't take more than a few weeks," said Phlegma. "You will have it we are sure it is clean."

"There's nothing wrong with it!" said Hiccup, his voice shaking slightly. "Honestly ma'am—"

"You can't know that, Haddock," said Phlegma, quite kindly, "not until you've put it on your dragon and ride it, and I'm afraid that is out of the question until we are certain that it has not been tampered with. I shall keep you informed." She then looked at Ragnar. "Keatson I'll also take that forge kit as well."

Ragnar nodded and handed his forge kit to her. Then Phlegma turned on her heel and carried the Firebolt and the forge kit out of the portrait hole, which closed behind her. Hiccup stood staring after her, the tin of High-Finish Ploish still clutched in his hands. Astrid, however, rounded on Ragnar.

"_What did you go running to Phlegma for?_"

Ragnar sighed and looked at Astird defiantly.

"Because I thought—and Phlegma agrees with me—that saddle and forge kit was probably sent to Hiccup by Alvin the Treacherous!"


	12. The Midgard Blade

Hiccup knew that Ragnar had meant well, but that didn't stop him being angry with him. He had been the owner of the best saddle in the world for a few short hours, and now, because of his interference, he didn't know whether he would ever see it again. He was positive that there was nothing wrong with the Firebolt now, but what sort of state would it be in once it had been subjected to all sorts of anti-jinx tests?

Astrid was furious with Ragnar, too. As far as she was concerned, the stripping-down of a brand-new Firebolt was nothing less than criminal damage. Ragnar, who remained convinced that he had acted for the best, started avoiding the common room and when Hiccup went to their dormitory he pretended to be asleep. Hiccup and Astrid supposed he had taken refuge in the library, and didn't try and persuade him to come back. All in all, they were glad when the rest of the academy, both students and dragons, returned shortly after New Year, and the Gryffindor Common Room became crowded and noisy again.

Eret sought Hiccup out the night before term started.

"Had a good Snoggletog?" he said, and then, without waiting for an answer, he sat down, lowered his voice and said, "I've been doing some thinking over Snoggletog, Hiccup. After last match, you know. If the Dementors come to the next one… I mean… we can't afford you to—well—"

Eret broke off, looking awkward.

"I'm working on it," said Hiccup quickly. "Johann said he'd train me to ward the Dementors off. We should be starting this week; he said he'd have time after Snoggletog."

"Ah," said Eret, his expression clearing. "Well, in that case—I really didn't want to lose you as Seeker, Hiccup. And have you ordered a new saddle and got a new dragon yet?"

"No," said Hiccup.

"What! You'd better get a move on, you know—you can't ride on Astrid's Deadly Nadder against Ravenclaw, you just don't bond, and riding a dragon with that Shooting Star—"

"Listen, Eret," said Hiccup, pulling out a piece of parchment and laid it flat on a table which should an image of a handmade Night Fury tailfin. "I've already had an idea. You see I just have to make this prosthetic tailfin and Toothless can fly. The only problem is that I'll have to operate the tailfin as we fly."

Eret looked at the blueprint then back to Hiccup. "Okay, but if that does work you'll need a new dragon. But you still need a new saddle."

"He's got a Firebolt for Snoggletog," said Astrid.

"A _Firebolt_? No! Seriously? A-a real _Firebolt_?"

"Don't get excited, Eret," said Hiccup gloomily. "I haven't got it any more. It was confiscated." And he explained all about how the Firebolt was now being checked for jinxes.

"Jinxed? How could I be jinxed?"

"Alvin the Treacherous," said Hiccup wearily. "He's supposed to be after me. So Phlegma reckons he might have sent it."

Waving aside the information that a famous murderer was after his Seeker, Eret said, "But Alvin couldn't have bought a Firebolt! He's on the run! The whole country's on the lookout for him! How could he just walk into Dazzling Dragon Racing Supplies and buy a saddle?"

"And if I was Alvin I'd seen you a saddle that would cost a lot less than a Firebolt," said Astrid.

"I know," said Hiccup, "but Phlegma still wants to strip it down—"

Eret went pale.

"I'll go and talk to her, Hiccup," he promised. "I'll make her see reason… a Firebolt… a real Firebolt, on our team… she wants Gryffindor to win as much as we do… I'll make her see sense… a _Firebolt_…"

He then got up and ran straight out of portrait hole.

"At least he took it well," said Astrid.

* * *

Lessons started again the next day. The last thing anyone felt like doing was spending two in the village on a raw, January morning, but Gobber workshop was nice and warm, Gobber had informed them that he expected them to work on their projects now and Hiccup was only too happy to start right away. The first Soothsaying lesson of the new term was much less fun; Gothi was now teaching them omens, including, to Hiccup's discomfort, the Signpost of Valhalla.

It was Combat Arts that Hiccup was keen to get to; after his conversation with Eret, he wanted to get started on his Anti-Dementor lessons as soon as possible.

"Ah, yes," said Johann, when Hiccup reminded him of his promise at the end of class. "Let me see… how about eight o'clock on Thursday evening? The History of Magic classroom should be large enough… I'll have to think carefully about how we're going to do this… we can't bring a real Dementor into the fort to practise on…"

"Still looks ill, doesn't he?" said Astrid, as they walked down the corridor, heading to dinner. "What d'you think the matter with him?"

"Well, I would have thought it was _obvious_?" said a voice behind them.

They looked around and saw Ragnar sitting on a bench, repacking his satchel, which was so full of books it wouldn't close.

"What do you mean?" said Hiccup.

Ragnar just rolled his eyes, making Astrid very angry. "Are you going to tell us or not?" snapped Astrid.

"No, I'll let you figure it out," said Ragnar, and marched off.

"He doesn't know," said Astrid, staring resentfully after Ragnar. "He's just trying to get us to talk to him again."

"I don't know," said Hiccup, watching as Ragnar entered the mountain. "He's never one to lie about something without good reason."

"Oh, come on," said Astrid hotly. "He took your Firebolt away from you, remember? Why on Midgard are you defending him!"

* * *

At eight o'clock on Thursday evening, Hiccup left the Gryffindor Common Room for the History of Magic classroom. It was dark and empty when he arrived, but he lit the lamps with some Fire Magic and had waited only five minutes when Johann turned up, carrying a large packing case, which he heaved onto Binns the Boring's desk.

"What's that?" said Hiccup.

"Another Boggart," said Johann. "I've been combing the fort ever since Tuesday, and very luckily, I found one lurking inside Mildew's filing cabinet. It's the nearest we'll get to a real Dementor. The Boggart will turn into a Dementor when he sees you, so we'll be able to practise on him. I can store him in my house when we're not using him; there's a cupboard under my desk he'll like."

"Okay," said Hiccup, trying to sound as though he wasn't apprehensive at all and merely glad that Johann had found such a good substitute for a real Dementor.

"So…" said Johann had taken out his dagger, and indicated that Hiccup should pull out his sword. "The Light Magic I am going to try and teach you is highly advanced magic, Hiccup—well beyond Ordinary Viking Level. It is called the Midgard Blade."

"How does it work?" said Hiccup nervously.

"Well, when it works correctly, it conjures a solid bright light," said Johann, "which is a kind of Anti-Dementor—a guardian which takes the form of a creature that you have a great emotional attachment to and acts as both a shield and sword when you face demon like creatures like Dementors."

Hiccup had a sudden vision of himself crouching behind a Gobber-sized figure holding a large club. Johann continued, "The Midgard Blade is a kind of positive force, a projection of the very thing that demons feed upon— hope, happiness, the desire to survive and so on— but unlike us humans it cannot feel despair, so demons can't hurt it. But I must warn you, Hiccup, that the Midgard Blade might be too advanced for you. Many qualified Vikings have difficulty with it."

"What does a the Midgard Blade look like?" said Hiccup curiously.

"Each one is unique to Vikings who conjures it."

"And how do you conjure it?"

"With a very strong heart and will, but you will also have to concentrate, with all your might, on a single, very happy memory."

Hiccup cast about for a happy memory. Certainly, nothing that had happened to him at the Dalssons' which was going to do. Finally, he settled on the moment when he had first ridden on Toothless.

"Right," he said, trying to recall as exactly as possible the wonderful, soaring sensation in his stomach.

"Now concentrate hard on your happy memory and let it flow into every point in your body."

"Right," said Hiccup, quickly forcing his thoughts back to that first dragon ride.

Something whooshed suddenly out of the end of his sword; it looked like a wisp of silvery gas.

"Did you see that?" said Hiccup excitedly. "Something happened!"

"Very good," said Johann, smiling. "Right then—ready to try it on a Dementor?"

"Yes," Hiccup said, gripping his sword tightly, and moving into the middle of the deserted classroom. He tried to keep his mind on flying, but something else kept intruding… any second now, he might hear his mother again… but he shouldn't think that, or he _would_ hear her again, and he didn't want to… if did he?

Johann grasped the lid of the packing case and pulled.

A Dementor rose slowly from the box, its hooded face turned towards Hiccup, one glistening, scabbed hand gripping its cloak. The lamps around the classroom flickered and went out. The Dementor stepped from the box and started to sweep silently towards Hiccup, drawing a deep, rattling breath. A wave of piercing clod broke over him—

Hiccup tried to concentrated, but the classroom and the Dementor were dissolving… Hiccup was falling again through thick white fog, and his mothers' voice was louder than ever, echoing inside his head—"_Not Hiccup! Not Hiccup!_"

"_Stand aside—stand aside, woman—_"

"Hiccup!"

Hiccup jerked back to life. He was lying flat on his back on the floor. The classroom lamps were alight again. He didn't have to ask what had happened.

"Sorry," he muttered, sitting up and feeling cold sweat trickling down his skin.

"Are you all right?" said Johann.

"Yes…" Hiccup pulled himself up on one of the desks and leaned against it.

"Here—" Johann handed him a Chocolate Frog. "Eat this before we try again. I didn't expect you to do it first time. In fact, I would have been astounded if you had."

"It's getting worse," Hiccup muttered, biting the Frog's head off. "I could hear her louder that time—and him—Drago—"

Johann looked paler than usual.

"Hiccup, if you don't want to continue, I will more than understand—"

"I do!" said Hiccup fiercely, stuffing the rest of the Chocolate Frog into his mouth. "I've got to! What if the Dementors turn up at our match against Ravenclaw? I can't afford to fall off again. If we lose this game we've lost the Dragon Racing Cup!"

Johann looked at him and chuckled. "You're just as stubborn as your father."

Hiccup stared at him and before he could ask more about his father, Johann then said, "You might want to select another memory, a happy memory, I mean, to concentrate on… that one doesn't seem to have been strong enough…"

Hiccup thought hard, and decided his feeling when Gryffindor had won the House Championship last year had definitely qualified as very happy. He gripped his sword tightly again, and took up his position in the middle of the classroom.

"Ready?" said Johann, gripping the box lid.

"Ready," said Hiccup, trying hard to fill his head with happy thoughts about Gryffindor winning, and not dark thoughts about what was going to happen when the box opened.

"Go!" said Johann, pulling the lid. The room went icily cold and dark once more. The Dementor glided forwards, drawing its rattly breath; one rotting hand was extending towards Hiccup.

Hiccup concentrated once again on that memory, but once again white fog obscured his senses… big, blurred shapes were moving around him… then came a new voice, a man's voice, shouting, panicking—

"_Val, take Hiccup and go! It's Him! Go! Run! I'll hold him off—"_

_The sounds of someone stumbling from a room—a door bursting open—a deep booming laughter—_

"Hiccup! Hiccup… wake up…"

Johann was tapping Hiccup hard on the face. This time it was a minute before Hiccup understood why he was lying on a dusty classroom floor.

"I heard my dad," Hiccup mumbled. "That's the first time I've ever heard him—he tried to take on Drago himself, to give my mum time to run for it…"

Hiccup suddenly realised that there were tears on his face mingling with sweat. He bent his face low as possible, wiping them off on his sleeve, pretending to put his boot properly on, so that Johann wouldn't see.

"You heard Stoick?" said Johann, in a strange voice.

"Yeah…" Face dry, Hiccup looked up. "Why—you didn't know my dad, did you?"

"I—I did, as a matter of fact," said Johann. "We were friends at Berk.

It was then when Hiccup realised why the name Johann was so familiar with him. Gobber had mentioned the name Johann to him last year and told him that he was traveling the world.

He was brought out of his thoughts when Johann spoke again. "Listen, Hiccup—perhaps we should leave it here for tonight. This magic is ridiculously advanced… I shouldn't have suggested putting you through this…"

"No!" said Hiccup. He got up again. "I'll have one more go! I'm not thinking of happy enough things, that's what it is… hang on…"

He racked his brains. A really, really happy memory… one that he could turn into a good, strong Guardian…

The moment when he first met Astrid and the time they became friends! If that wasn't a happy memory, he didn't know what was… concentrating very hard on how he had felt when he'd first laid eyes on Astrid, Hiccup got to his feet and faced the packing case once more.

"Ready?" said Johann, who looked as though he was doing this against his better judgement. "Concentrating hard? All right—go!"

He pulled off the lid of the case for the third time, and the Dementor rose out of it; the room fell cold and dark—

Hiccup concentrated hard on the memory. The screaming inside Hiccup's head had started again—except this time, it sounded as though it was coming from a badly tuned radio. Softer and louder and softer again… and he could still see the Dementor… it had halted… and then a huge, silver shadow came bursting out of the end of Hiccup's sword, to hover between him and began to move the Dementor back, and though Hiccup's legs felt like water, he was still on his feet… though for how much longer, he wasn't sure…

Then Johann jumped in front of him. There was a loud crack, and Hiccup's cloudy slivery mist vanished along with the Dementor; he sank into a chair, feeling as exhausted as if he'd just run a mile, his legs shaking. Out of the corner of his eye, he saw Johann forcing the Boggart back into the packing case with his dagger; it had turned into a silvery orb again.

"Excellent!" Johann said, striding over to where Hiccup sat. "Excellent, Hiccup! That was definitely a start!"

"Can we have another go? Just one more go?"

"Oh, no," said Johann firmly. "You've had enough for one night. Here—"

He handed Hicccup a large bar of Honeydukes' best chocolate.

"Eat the lot, or Flora will be after my blood. Same time next week?"

"Okay," said Hiccup. He took a bite of the chocolate and watched Johann extinguishing the lamps that had rekindled with the disappearance of the Dementor. A thought had just occurred to him.

"Johann?" he said. "If you knew my dad, you must've known Alvin the Treacherous as well."

Johann turned very quickly.

"What gives you that idea?" he said sharply.

"Nothing—I mean, I just knew they were friends at Berk, too…"

Johann's face relaxed.

"Yes, I knew him," he said shortly. "Or I thought I did. You'd better get off, it's getting late."

Hiccup felt the classroom, walked along the corridor and around a corner, then took a detour behind a stone statue and sank down on its plinth to finish his chocolate, wishing he hadn't mentioned Alvin, as Johann was obviously not keen on the subject. Then Hiccup's thoughts wandered back to his mother and father…

He felt drained and strangely empty, even though he was so full of chocolate. Terrible though it was to hear his parents' last moments replayed inside his head, these were the only times Hiccup had heard their voices since he was a very small child. But he'd never be able to produce a proper Guardian if he half-wanted to hear his parents again…

"They're dead," he told himself sternly. "They're dead, and listening to echoes of them won't bring them back. You'd better get a grip on yourself if you want that Dragon Racing Cup."

He stood up, crammed the last bit of chocolate into his mouth and headed back to the Gryffindor Common Room.

* * *

Ravenclaw played Slytherin a week after the start of term. Slytherin won, though narrowly. According to Eret, this was good news for Gryffindor, who would take second place if they beat Ravenclaw too. He therefore increased the number of team practices to five a week. This meant that with Johann's Anit-Dementor classes, which in themselves were more draining than six Dragon Racing practices and with him busy creating that prosthetic tailfin for Toothless before there next match, Hiccup had just one night a week to do all his homework. Even so, he wasn't showing the strain nearly as much as Ragnar, whose immense workload finally seemed to be getting to him. Every night, without fail, Ragnar was to be seen in a corner of the common room, several tables spread with books, Arithmancy charts, Rune dictionaries, diagrams of Muggles lifting heavy objects, and file upon file of extensive notes; he barely spoke to anybody, and snapped when he was interrupted.

"How's he doing it?" Astrid muttered to Hiccup one evening, as Hiccup sat finishing a nasty essay on Undetectable Poisons for Grabbit. Hiccup looked up. Ragnar was barely visible behind a tottering pile of books.

"Doing what?"

"Getting to all his classes!" Astrid said. "I heard him talking to Vector the Calculator, that Arithmancy Valkyrie, this morning. They were going on about yesterday's lesson, but Ragnar can't've been there, because he was with us in Forging! And Speedfist Boilson told me he's never missed a Muggle Studies class, but half of them are at the same time as Soothsaying, and he's never missed one of them, either!"

Hiccup didn't have time to fathom the mystery of Ragnar's impossible timetable at the moment; he really needed to get on with Grabbit's essay. Two seconds later, however, he was interrupted again, this time by Eret.

"Bad news, Hiccup. I've just been to see Phlegma about the Firebolt. She—uh—said no," said Eret. "Then I asked her how much longer she was going to keep it…" He screwed up his face and imitated Phlegma's severe voice, "'As long as necessary, Eretson'… I reckon it's time you ordered a new saddle, Hiccup. There's an order form at the back of _Which Saddle_… you could get a Nimbus Two Thousand and One, like Snotlout's got."

"There no way I'm buying something that Snotlout thinks is good," said Hiccup flatly.

* * *

January faded imperceptibly into February, with no change in the bitterly cold weather. The match against Ravenclaw was drawing nearer and nearer, but Hiccup still hadn't ordered a new saddle. He was now asking Phlegma for news of the Firebolt after every Transfiguration lesson, Astrid standing hopefully at his shoulder, Ragnar rushing past with his face averted.

"No, Hiccup, you can't have it back yet," said Phlegma told him the twelfth time this happened, before he'd even opened his mouth. "And the same goes for Keatson's forge kit. We've checked for most of the usual curses, but Flitwick believes the saddle and the forge kit might be carrying a Hurling Hex. I shall _tell_ you and Keatson once we've finished checking them. Now, please stop badgering me."

The only good news was that Hiccup had finally finished Toothless' prosthetic tailfin. The tailfin itself was red with a white Viking helmet painted on it. The only problem was that Toothless would not be able to move it by himself. So, Hiccup, came up with ways to operate the tailfin by himself, but the tests weren't going the way as he planned.

The first few tests didn't work out so well, he had probably been in the lake more times than a duck. The first was just with the plain tailfin and Toothless was so excited that he got a new tailfin that he took off with Hiccup clinging onto his tail for dear life and they ended up landing in the lake. The second time wasn't much better, Hiccup tried to operate the tailfin with a piece of rope in his hand, but once he pulled the tailfin didn't move and they ended up crashing in the lake again. The third time, Hiccup tired the rope to his leg, but ended up with the same result.

To make matters even worse, Hiccup's Anti-Dementor lessons were not going nearly as well as he had hoped. Several sessions on, he was able to produce an indistinct, silvery shadow every time the Boggart-Dementor approached him, but his Guardian was too feeble to drive the Dementor away. All it did was hover, like a semi-transparent cloud, draining Hiccup of energy as he fought to keep it there. Hiccup felt angry with himself, guilty about his secret desire to hear his parents' voices again.

"You're expecting too much of yourself," said Johann sternly, in their fourth week of practice. "For a thirteen-year-old Viking, even an indistinct Guardian is a huge achievement. You aren't passing out any more, are you?"

"I thought a Guardian would—charge the Dementors down or something," said Hiccup dispiritedly. "Destroy them—"

"A true Guardian does do that," said Johann. "But you've achieved a great deal in very short space of time. If the Dementors put in an appearance at your next Dragon Racing match, you will be able to keep them at bay long enough to get back to the ground."

"You said it's harder if there are loads of them," said Hiccup.

"I have complete confidence in you," said Johann, smiling. "Here—you've earned a drink. Something from the Green Dragon, you won't have tried it before—"

"Butterbeer!" said Hiccup, without thinking. "Yeah, I like that stuff!"

Johann raised an eyebrow.

"Oh—Astrid and Ragnar brought me some back from Berksmeade," Hiccup lied quickly.

"I see," said Johann, though he still looked slightly suspicious. "Well—let's drink to Gryffindor victory against Ravenclaw! Not that I'm supposed to take sides, as a teacher…" he added hastily.

They drank the Butterbeer in silence, until Hiccup voiced something he'd been wondering for a while.

"What's under a Dementor's hood?"

Johann lowered his bottle thoughtfully.

"Hmmm… well, the only people who really know are in no condition to tell is. You see, the Dementor only lowers its hood to use its last and worst weapon."

"What's that?"

"They call it the Dementors' Kiss," said Johann a slightly twisted smile. "It's what Dementors do to those they wish to destroy utterly. I suppose there must be some kind of mouth under there, because they clamp their jaws upon the mouth of the victim and—and suck out his soul."

Hiccup accidentally spat out a bit of Butterbeer.

"What—they kill—?"

"Oh, no," said Johann. "Much worse than that. You can exist without your soul, you know, as long as your brain and heart are still working. But you'll have no sense of self any more, no memory, no… anything. You can't die and enter the gates of Valhalla. There's no chance at all of recovery. You'll just–exist. As an empty shell. And your soul is gone for ever… lost."

Johann drank a little more Butterbeer, then said, "It's the fate that awaits Alvin the Treacherous. It was in the _Daily Prophet_ this morning. The Ministry have given the Dementors permission to perform it if they find him."

Hiccup sat stunned for a moment at the idea of someone having their soul sucked out through their mouth. But then he thought of Alvin.

"He deserves it," he said suddenly.

"You think so?" said Johann lightly. "Do you really think anyone deserves that?"

"Yes," said Hiccup defiantly. "For… for some things…"

He would have liked to have told Johann about the conversation he'd overheard about Alvin in the Green Dragon, about Alvin betraying his mother and father and how he abandoned Ragnar and his mother for Drago, but it would have involved revealing that he'd gone to Berksmeade without permission, and he knew Johann wouldn't be very impressed by that. So he finished his Butterbeer, thanked Johann, and left the History of Magic classroom.

Hiccup half-wished that he hadn't asked what was under a Dementor's hood, the answer had been so horrible, and he was so lost in unpleasant thoughts of what it would feel like to have your soul sucked out of you, that he walked headlong into Phlegma halfway up the stairs.

"Do watch where you're going, Hiccup!"

"Sorry, ma'am—"

"I've been looking for you in the Gryffindor common room. Well, here it is, we've done everything we could think of, and there doesn't seem to be anything wrong with it at all—you've got a very good friend somewhere, Hiccup…"

Hiccup's jaw dropped. She was holding out his Firebolt, and it looked as magnificent as ever.

"I can have it back?" said Hiccup weakly. "Seriously?"

"Seriously," said Phlegma, and she was actually smiling. Then she pulled out Ragnar's forge kit. "Also I would ask if you can return Keatson's forge kit for him?"

"Sure," said Hiccup taking the forge kit.

Phlegma then looked at the Firebolt. "I daresay you'll need to get the feel of it before Saturday's match and to fix Toothless' tailfin, won't you? And Haddock—_do_ try and win, won't you? Or we'll be out of the running for the eight year in a row, as Grabbit was kind enough to remind me only last night…"

Speechless, Hiccup carried the Firebolt and the forge kit back upstairs towards the Gryffindor Common Room. As he turned a corner, he saw Astrid dashing towards him, grinning from ear to ear.

"She gave it to you? Excellent! Listen, can I still have a go on it? Tomorrow?"

"Yeah… anything…" said Hiccup, his heart lighter than it had been in a month. "I have to give Ragnar his forge kit that's clean too and while we're at it we should make it up him. He was only trying to help."

"Yeah, guess you're right," said Astrid. "He's in the common room now—working, for a change."

They turned into the corridor to the Gryffindor Common Room and saw Fishlegs, pleading with Cadogan, who seemed to be refusing him entrance.

"I wrote them down," Fishlegs was saying tearfully, "but I must've dropped them somewhere!"

"A likely tale!" roared Cadogan. Then, spotting Hiccup and Astrid, "Good evening to you young man and you too m'lady!"

Astrid clenched her fist and said, through gritted teeth, "If he calls me that one more time—"

"What going on here?" Hiccup asked quickly.

"This oaf has dared to ask entry for the chamber within!" roared Cadogan.

"I've lost the passwords!" Fishlegs told them miserably. "I made him tell me what passwords he was going to use this week, because he keeps changing them, and now I don't know what I've done with them!"

"Oddsbodikins," said Hiccup to Cadogan, who looked extremely disappointed and reluctantly swung forwards to let them into the common room. There was a sudden, excited murmur as every head turned and the next moment, Hiccup was surrounded by people exclaiming over his Firebolt.

"Where'd you get it, Hiccup?

"Will you let me have a go?"

"Have you ridden it yet, Hiccup?"

"Ravenclaw'll have no chance, they're all on Cleansweeps Sevens!"

"Can I just _hold_ it, Hiccup?"

After ten minutes or so, during which the Firebolt was passed around and admired from every angle, the crowd dispersed and Hiccup and Astrid had clear view of Ragnar, the only person who hadn't rushed over to them, bent over his work, and carefully avoiding their eyes. Hiccup and Astrid approached his table and at last, he looked up.

"I got it back," said Hiccup, grinning at him and holding up the Firebolt.

"See, Rag? There wasn't anything wrong with it!" said Astrid.

"Well—there _might_ have been!" said Ragnar. "I mean think about from my point of view if my best friend died because of my father, I'd never live with myself."

"Yeah, I suppose so," said Hiccup. "Oh, for forge kit came clean as well."

"I'll take them!" said Astrid eagerly.

She took both the Firebolt and the forge kit without asking and rushed upstairs before Hiccup and Ragnar could say a thing.

"Can I sit down?" Hiccup asked Ragnar.

"Sure," said Ragnar, moving a great stack of parchment off a chair.

Hiccup looked around at the cluttered table, at the long Arithmancy essay on which the ink was still glistening, at the even longer Muggle Studies essay ("Explain why Muggles Need Electricity") and at the Rune translation Ragnar was now poring over.

"How are you getting through all this stuff?" Hiccup asked him.

"Oh, well—you know—working hard," said Ragnar. Close to, Hiccup saw that he looked almost as tired as Johann.

"Why don't you just drop a couple of subjects?" Hiccup asked, watching him lifting books as he searched for his Rune dictionary.

"I couldn't do that!" said Ragnar, looking scandalised.

Before Hiccup could reason with him, they heard an ear splitting scream echoing down the boys' staircase. The whole common room fell silent, staring petrified, as the entrance. There came hurried footsteps, growing louder and louder—and then, Astrid came leaping into view, dragging with her a bedsheet.

"LOOK!" she bellowed, striding over to Ragnar's table. "LOOK!" he yelled, shaking the sheets in his face.

"Astrid, what—?"

"SCABBERS! LOOK! SCABBERS!"

Ragnar was leaning away from Astrid, looking utterly bewildered. Hiccup looked down at the sheet Astrid was holding. There was something red on it. Something that looked horribly like—

"BLOOD!" Astrid yelled into the stunned silence. "THIS IS YOUR BEDSHEET! AND YOU KNOW WHAT WAS ON THE FLOOR?"

"N-no," said Ragnar, nervously.

Astrid threw something down onto Ragnar's Rune translation. Ragnar and Hiccup leaned forward. Lying on top of the weird, spiky shapes were several rat hairs and a large, orange dragon scale.


	13. Gryffindor Versus Ravenclaw

It looked like the end of Hiccup and Ragnar's friendship. Each was so angry with the other that Hiccup couldn't see how they'd ever make it up.

Astrid was enraged that Ragnar had never taken Amber's attempts to eat Scabber's seriously, hadn't bothered to keep a close enough watch on her and was still trying to pretend that Amber was innocent by suggesting Astrid look for Scabbers, that the rat hairs and dragon scale might have been there since Snoggletog, and that Astrid had been prejudiced against his Terrible Terror ever since Amber had landed on Astrid's head in the Magical Menagerie.

Personally, Hiccup was sure that Amber had eaten Scabbers, but he wasn't about to tell Ragnar that the evidence was pointing in that direction. He just made up with Ragnar and he wasn't about to lose his friendship with him a second time.

When he asked what Ragnar thought about, he said, "Okay, so the evidence points to Amber, but there was not a single bone and I don't count him dead until I see his body in front of me."

Hiccup thought best not to remind him that was what his father always says.

Astrid had taken the loos of her rat very hard indeed.

"Come on, Astrid, you were always saying how boring Scabbers was," said Double bracingly. "And he's been off colour for ages, he was wasting away. It was probably better for him to snuff it quickly. One swallow—he probably didn't feel a thing."

Astrid just sobbed even harder.

"You're not helping," said Hiccup, placing an arm around her.

"All he did was eat and sleep, Astrid, you said it yourself," said Trouble.

"He bit Clueless for me once," said Astrid tearing landing on Hiccup's shoulder.

"When was this?" said Hiccup curiously.

"First time on the train, after I left you and Ragnar, I bumped into Snotlout and his goons," Astrid explained. "Clueless grabbed my shoulder and Scabbers bit him."

"His finest hour," said Double, unable to keep a straight face. "Let the scar on Clueless' finger stand as a lasting tribute to his memory. Oh, come one, Astrid, get yourself down to Berksmeade and buy a new rat. What's the point of sobbing?"

In a last-ditched attempt to cheer Astrid up, Hiccup persuaded her to come along to the Gryffindor team's final practice before the Ravenclaw match, so that he could have a go on the Firebolt after they'd finished. This did seem to take Astrid's mind off Scabbers for a moment ("Cool! Can I try and shoot a few goals on it?") so they set off the Dragon Racing stadium together.

Getting there was easier said than done, Hiccup had yet to master the new stirrup that he attached the saddle in order to operate Toothless tailfin, but they finally managed to fly over. Madam Hooch, who was still overseeing Gryffindor practices to keep an eye on Hiccup, was just as impressed with the Firebolt as everyone else had been. She wondered over Toothless and examined it in order to give them the benefit of her professional opinion.

"Look at the balance on it! If the Nimbus series has a fault, it's a slight list to the dragon's tail—you often find they start to drag the dragon down after a few years. They've updated the reins, too, a bit slimmer than the Cleansweeps, reminds me of the old Silver Arrows—a pity they've stopped making them, I learned to fly on one, and a very find old saddle it was too. Though, while you've done a first rate job to get Toothless back into the air Haddock, I believe that the stirrup will slow you down a hit…"

She continued in this vein for some time, until Eret said, "Uh—Madam Hooch? Is it okay if Hiccup can get on Toothless? Only we need to practise…"

"Oh—right—here you go, then, Haddock," said Madam Hooch. "I'll sit over here with Miss Hofferson…"

She and Astrid left the pitch to sit in the stadium, and the Gryffindor team gathered around Eret for his final instructions for tomorrow's match.

"Hiccup, I've just found out who Ravenclaw are playing as Seeker. Her name is Heather Valha—"

"Wait, Heather is the Ravenclaw Seeker?" said Hiccup.

"Yes," said Eret. "You know her?"

"We've only met once, but I had no idea she played."

"Well, from what I've heard she's pretty good… I really hope she wouldn't be fit, she's had some problems with injuries…" Eret scowled his displeasure that Heather had made a full recovery, then said, "On the other hand, she rides a Comet Two Sixty Firebolt." He gave the Firebolt a look of fervent admiration, then said, "but she rides a Razorwhip called Windshear, which I gather is quite deadly and speed, though not as speedy as a Night Fury. Okay everyone, let's go—"

And at long last, Hiccup mounted on Toothless, opened the tailfin with the stirrup and took off into the sky.

First thing Hiccup did was test the tailfin. The hardest part was trying to get the reaction time right, meaning he ended up in the water a few times, but he got better and better over the practise in fact it came almost naturally to him.

Also thanks to the Firebolt, Toothless was moving twice as fast as he did before. They sped across the stadium as such speed that the water below was nothing more than a blue and grey blur; Toothless turned so sharply that Alfhild Spinson screamed, then he went into a perfectly controlled dive, skimming across the water with his toes before Hiccup pulled his up thirty, forty, fifty feet into the air again—

"Hiccup, I'm letting the Snitch out!" Eret called.

Hiccup turned and raced a Bludger towards one of the baskets; he outstripped it easily, saw the Snitch dart out from behind Eret and within ten seconds had caught it tightly in his hand.

The team cheered madly. Hiccup let the Snitch go again, gave it a minute's head start, then tore after it, weaving in and out of the others; he spotted it lurking near Kari Bellson's knee, looped her easily, and caught it again.

It was the best practice ever; the team, inspired by the presence of the combination of Toothless and the Firebolt in their midst, performed their best moves faultlessly, and by the time they hit the ground again, Eret didn't have a single criticism to make, which, as Trouble pointed out, was a first.

"I can't see what's going to stop us tomorrow!" said Eret. "Not unless—Hiccup, you've sorted your Dementor problem, haven't you?"

"Yeah," said Hiccup, thinking if his feeble Guardian and wishing it was stronger.

"The Dementors won't turn up again, Eret, Heyral'd do his nut," said Double confidently.

"Well, let's hope not," said Eret. "Anyway—good work, everyone. Let's get back to the common room—turn in early…"

"I'm staying out for a bit, Astrid wants a go on the Firebolt," Hiccup told Eret, and while the rest of the team headed off to the changing rooms, Hiccup strode over to Astrid, who rushed off her sit to come and meet him. Madam Hooch had fallen asleep in her seat.

"Here you go," said Hiccup gesturing to Toothless.

After giving her a brief lesson on how to operate the tailfin, Astrid mounted Toothless and zoomed off into the gathering darkness while Hiccup walked around the edge of the water, watching him. Astrid was a bit shaky and she hadn't formed a bond with Toothless like Hiccup had, but she was doing rather well. Night had fallen before Madam Hooch awoke with a start, told Hiccup and Astrid off for not waking her, and insisted that they go back to the fort.

They mounted Toothless and Stormfly and flew out of the shadowy stadium, discussing the Firebolt's superbly smooth action, along with its ability to boost Toothless phenomenal acceleration and pinpoint turning.

They had just reached the island when Hiccup, glancing to his left, saw something that made his heart turn over—a pair of eyes, gleaming out of the darkness.

Hiccup stopped dead, his heart banging against his ribs.

"What's the matter?" said Astrid.

Hiccup pointed. Astrid pulled out her axe and summoned a fire ball and sent it towards into the darkness. The fireball hovered over a bush and there, crouching amongst the branches, was Amber.

"It's only Amber," Astrid muttered. "Ragnar, needs to get that Terrible Terror of his under control, she's probably washing down Scabbers with a couple of birds now…"

Hiccup didn't say anything. He took a deep breath as relief seeped through him; he had been sure for a moment that those eyes had belonged to the Signpost of Valhalla. After leaving Toothless and Stormfly at the stables, they set off for the mountain. Slightly ashamed of his moment of panic, Hiccup didn't say anything to Astrid—nor did he look left or right until they had reached the well lit Great Hall.

* * *

Hiccup went down to breakfast next morning with the rest of the boys in his dormitory, all of whom seemed to think, apart from Ragnar, the Firebolt deserved a sort of guard of honour. As Hiccup entered the Great Hall, heads turned in the direction of the Firebolt, and there was a good deal of excited muttering. Hiccup saw, with enormous satisfaction, that the Slytherin team were all looking thunderstruck.

"Did you see his face?" said Astrid gleefully, looking back at Snotlout. "He can't believe it! This is great!"

Eret, too, was basking in the reflected glory of the Firebolt.

"Put it here, Hiccup," he said, laying the saddle in the middle of the table, making sure that its name faced upwards. People from Ravenclaw and Hufflepuff tables were soon coming over to look. Eric Digson came over to congratulate Hiccup on having acquired such a superb replacement for his Nimbus, and Sven's Ravenclaw girlfriend, Clearwater Puddleson, asked if she could actually hold the Firebolt.

"Now, now, Clear, no sabotage!" said Sven heartily, as she examined the Firebolt closely. "Sven and I have got a bet on," he told the team. "Ten Galleons on the outcome of the match!"

Clearwater put the Firebolt down again, thanked Hiccup and went back to her table.

"Hiccup—make sure you win," said Sven, in an urgent whisper. "_I haven't got ten Galleons_. Yes, I'm coming, Clear!" And he bustled off to join her in a piece of toast.

Heather then walked up, she was a pretty black haired girl with green eyes and on her right wrist was the Ravenclaw tattoo. Her clothes were a bit raggy, but she looked beautiful all the same.

"Nice saddle, Hiccup," she said, looking at the saddle impressively. "But it's going to take a lot more than that to beat us."

She then looked at Ragnar blushed a little and returned to her table. Hiccup looked at Ragnar and could have sworn that he was blushing too.

"Sure you and your dragon can manage that saddle, Useless?" said a cold, sneering voice.

Snotlout had arrived for a closer look, Dogsbreath and Clueless right behind him.

"Yeah, reckon so," said Hiccup casually.

"Got plenty of special features, hasn't it?" said Snotlout, eyes glittering maliciously. "Shame it doesn't come with an extra tailfin for you flightless dragon or parachute—in case you get too near a Dementor."

Dogsbreath and Clueless sniggered. Astrid got up glaring at Snotlout and would have punched him if Wartihog and Tuffnut hadn't grabbed her arms.

"Pity you can't attach an extra arm to yours, Snotlout," said Hiccup. "Then it could catch the Snitch for you."

The Gryffindor team laughed loudly. Snotlout glared at him, and he stormed off. They watched him re-join the rest of the Slytherin team, who put their heads together, no doubt asking Snotlout whether Hiccup's saddle really was a Firebolt.

"I'd be careful," said Ragnar looking at Snotlout. "I'd bet all the books I own that he's up to something."

Hiccup could help, but agree with Ragnar.

At a quarter to eleven, the Gryffindor team set off for the changing rooms. The weather couldn't have been more different from their match against Hufflepuff. It was a clear, cool day, with a very light breeze; there would be no problems this time, and Hiccup, thought nervous, was starting to feel the excitement only a Dragon Racing match could bring. They could hear the rest of the academy moving into the stadium beyond. Hiccup began putting on face paint on Toothless and himself and made sure his sword was ready in case any Dementor decided to pay a visit. He wondered suddenly whether Johann was in the crowd, watching.

"You know what we've got to do," said Eret, as they prepared to leave the changing rooms. "If we lose this match, we're out of the running. Just-just fly like you did in practice yesterday, and we'll be okay!"

They mounted their dragons and flew into the stadium tumultuous applause. The Ravenclaw team, with blue face paint, were already on their dragons. Hiccup then saw Heather, who waved at him, she was riding on a Razorwhip which Hiccup guessed was Windshear.

She had a long, slender neck. her scales appear to be large and greyish, and due to its reflective properties, metallic-like. She had a long ledge on the top of its snout and a short, stumpy one on the bottom. Her appeared to be covered in metal armor. She appeared to have a short, spiky sail and has spikes all along its wings. Her teeth seem to wrap around the edge of her mouth. She had a high ridge over its eyes and was a four-legged dragon with two talons on each foot.

Heather smiled at Hiccup as the teams faced each other behind their captains, and he felt a slight jolt in the region of his stomach that he didn't think had anything to do with nerves.

"Eretson, Halson, shake hands," Madam Hooch said briskly, and Eret shook hands with the Ravenclaw captain.

"Get ready… on my whistle… three—two—one—"

Toothless too off like a bullet from a gun and Hiccup began to operate his tailfin. They were going faster than any other dragon; they soared around the stadium and Hiccup began squinting around for the Snitch, listening all the while to the commentary, which was being provided by the Hofferson twins' friend, Lock Jordson.

"They're off, and the big excitement this match is the Firebolt which is strapped to a Night Fury, who is being ridden by Hiccup Haddock of Gryffindor. Now due to an accident during Gryffindor's last match Hiccup's Night Fury, Toothless, has lost a tailfin, but young Hiccup, using impressive forge skills, has replaced it with a prosthetic which is operated by a stirrup on the Firebolt. According to _Which Saddle_, the Firebolt's going to be the saddle of choice for the national teams at this year's World Championship—"

"Jordson, would you mind telling us what's going on in the match?" interrupted Phlegma's voice.

"Right you are, ma'am—just giving a bit of background information. The Firebolt, incidentally, has a built-in fire breath booster and—"

"Jordson!"

"Okay, okay, Gryffindor in possession, Kair Bellson of Gryffindor heading for the goal…"

Hiccup streaked past Kair in the opposite direction, gazing around for a black, small ball and noticing that Heather was tailing him closely. She was undoubtedly a very good rider—she kept cutting across him, forcing him to change direction.

"Show her you acceleration, Hiccup!" Double yelled, as he whooshed past in pursuit of a Bludger that was aiming for Alfhild.

"Okay, bud, let's show them what we've got," said Hiccup.

Toothless nodded and they rounded the Ravenclaw basket and Heather fell behind. Just as Kair succeeded in scoring the first goal of the match, and the Gryffindor end of the pitch went wild, he saw it—the Snitch was close to the water, flittering near one of the pontoons.

Hiccup dived; Heather saw what he was doing and tore after him. Toothless speeding up, excitement flooded into Hiccup; dives were their speciality. They were ten feet away—

Then a Bludger, hit by one of the Ravenclaw Beaters, came pelting out of nowhere; Toothless veered off course, avoiding it by an inch, and in those few, crucial seconds, the Snitch had vanished.

There was a great "Oooooh" of disappointment from the Gryffindor supporters, but much applause for their Beater from the Ravenclaw end. Trouble vented his feeling by hitting the second Bludger directly at the offending Beater, who was forced to roll right over in mid-air to avoid it.

"Gryffindor lead by eighty points to zero, and look at Toothless go! Haddock's really putting that Firebolt of his through its paces now. See it turn—Valha's Comet is just no match for it. The Firebolt's brings precision-balance to the dragon wearing it and you can clearly see it—"

"JORDSON! ARE YOU BEING PAID TO ADVERTISE FIREBOLTS? GET ON WITH THE COMMENTARY!"

Ravenclaw were pulling back; they had now scored three goals, which put Gryffindor only fifty points ahead—if Heather got the Snitch before him, Ravenclaw would win. Hiccup dropped lower, narrowly avoiding a Ravenclaw Chaser, scanning the stadium frantically. Then he saw a dark glow, a fluttering of tiny wings—the Sntich was circling the Gryffindor basket…

Toothless accelerated, Hiccup's eyes fixed on the speck of black ahead—but next second, a Changerwing suddenly appeared with Heather riding on it, blocking them—

"HICCUP, THIS IS NO TIME TO BE A GENTLEMAN!" Eret roared, as Hiccup pressed down on the stirrup to avoid a collision. "KNOCK HER OFF HER DRAGON IF YOU HAVE TO!"

Hiccup turned and caught sight of Heather; she was grinning. The Snitch had vanished again. Toothless flew upwards and as soon twenty feet above the game. Out of the corner of his eye, Hiccup saw Heather following them… she'd seceded to mark him rather than search for the Snitch herself. Right then… if she wanted to tail him, she'd have to take the consequences…

"Okay, bud, follow my lead," said Hiccup.

They dived again, and Heather, thinking he's seen the Snitch, tried to follow. Toothless pulled out of the dive very sharply, she hurtled downwards; he rose fast as a bullet once more, and then Hiccup saw it, for the third time: the Snitch was glittering way above the stadium at the Ravenclaw end.

Toothless saw it too and accelerated; so, many feet below, did Heather. They were winning, gaining on the Snitch with every second—then—

"Oh!" screamed Heather, pointing.

Distracted, Hiccup looked down.

Three Dementors, three tall, black, hooded Dementors, were looking up at him on one of the pontoons.

He didn't stop to think. He pulled out his sword, pointed it at the Dementors and concentrated on the happy memory of Astrid. Next second, something silver white, something enormous, erupted from the tip of the sword. He knew it had shot directly at the Dementors but didn't pause to watch; his mind still miraculously clear, he still grasping his sword and just managed to close his fingers over the small, struggling Snitch.

Madam Hooch's whistle sounded, Toothless turned them around in mid-air and saw six scarlet blurs bearing down on them. Next moment, the whole team were hugging him so hard he was nearly pulled off of Toothless. Down below he could hear the roars of the Gryffindors in the crowd.

"That's my boy!" Eret kept yelling. Alfhild, Ase and Kari had all kissed Hiccup, and Double had him in a grip so tight Hiccup felt as though his head would come off. The Gryffindor dragons were roaring proudly at Toothless.

In complete disarray, the team managed to make its way back to the pontoons. Hiccup got off Toothless, and gave him a well-deserved rub on the chin, and looked up to see a gaggle of Gryffindor supporters sprinting towards them, Astrid in the lead. Before he knew it, he had been engulfed by the cheering crowd.

"Yes!" Astrid yelled, hugging Hiccup hard and kissing him on the cheek. "Yes! Yes!"

"Well _done_, Hiccup!" said Sven, looking delighted. "Ten Galleons to me! Must find Clear, excuse me—"

"Good on you, Hiccup!" roared Wartihog.

"That was awesome!" roared Tuffnut.

"That was so cool when you shot out that silver stuff," said Ruffnut.

"Good going!" boomed Gobber over the heads of the milling Gryffindors.

"That was quite some Guardian," said a voice in Hiccup's ear.

Hiccup turned around to see Johann, who looked both shaken and pleased.

"The Dementors didn't affect me at all!" Hiccup said excitedly. "I didn't feel a thing!"

"So to disappoint you Hiccup, but—uh—they were Dementors," said Johann. "Come and see—"

He led Hiccup out of the crowd and onto another pontoon.

"You gave Mr Jorgenson quite a fright," said Johann.

Hiccup stared. In the freezing water were Snotlout, Dogsbreath, Clueless and Dagur, the Slytherin team captain, all struggling to remove themselves from long, black and now damp hooded robes. It looked as though Snotlout had been standing on Clueless' shoulders. Standing over them, with an expression of the utmost fury on her face, was Phlegma.

"An unworthy trick!" she was shouting. "A low and cowardly attempt to sabotage the Gryffindor Seeker! Dentention for all of you, and fifty points from Slytherin! I shall be speaking to Heyral about this, make no mistake! Ah, here he comes now!"

If anything could have set the seal on Gryffindor's victory, it was this. Astrid, who had fought her way through to Hiccup's doubled up with laughter as they watched Snotlout lifting himself out of the freezing cold water.

"Maybe this will cool down his ego," said Ragnar, who had followed them as well.

"Come on, Hiccup!" said Trouble, fighting his way over. "Party! Gryffindor common room, now!"

"Right," said Hiccup, and feeling happier than he had done in ages, he and the rest of the team led the way, still in their scarlet face paint, out of the stadium and flew back to the island.

* * *

It felt as though they had already won the Dragon Racing Cup; the party went on all day and well into the night. Double and Trouble Hofferson disappeared for a couple of hours and returned with armfuls of bottles of Butterbeer, pumpkin fizz and serval bags full of Honeydukes sweets.

"How did you do that?" squealed Ase Jerkson, as Trouble started throwing Peppermint Toads into the crowd.

"With a little help from Moony, Wormtail, Padfoot, Forge and Fangs," Double muttered in Hiccup's ear.

Only one person wasn't joining in the festivities. Ragnar incredibly, was sitting in a corner, attempting to read an enormous book entitled _Home Life and Social Habits of British Muggles_. Hiccup broke away from the table where Double and Trouble had started juggling Butterbeer bottles, and went over to him.

"Looks like you get to keep your books," he joked.

"Good thing, because I need to read this certain book by Monday."

"Come on, Rag, come and have some food," Hiccup said, looking over at Astrid and wondering whether she was in a good enough mood to bury the hatchet and he meant that quite literally.

"I'd love to, Hic, but I've still got four hundred and twenty-two pages to read!" said Ragnar.

"Anyway…" He glanced over at Astrid, too, "_She_ doesn't want me to join in."

There was no arguing with this, as Astrid chose that moment to say loudly, "If Scabbers hadn't just been _eaten_, he could have had some of these Fudge Flies, he used to really like them—"

"What did I tell you," said Ragnar, before he got up, tucked the enormous book under his arm and marched up the staircase to the boys' dormitories.

"Can't you give him a break?" Hiccup asked Astrid quietly.

"No," said Astrid flatly. "If he just acted like he was sorry—but he'll never admit he's wrong, Ragnar. He's still acting like Scabbers has gone on holiday or something."

"It's not fun for me acting like a bridge between you two, you know," said Hiccup crossing his arms.

The Gryffindor party only ended when Phlegma turned up in her tartan dressing gown and hair-net at one in the morning, to insist that they all went to bed. Hiccup climbed the stairs to his dormitory, still discussing the match with Fishlegs, Tuffnut and Wartihog, when they got their Ragnar was already in bed sleeping. At last, exhausted, Hiccup climbed into bed, laid back and felt himself almost instantly drifting off to sleep…

He had a very strange dream. He was walking through a forest, Toothless by his find, following something silvery white. It was winding its way through the trees ahead, and he could only catch glimpses of it between the leaves. Anxious to catch up with it, they sped up, but as they moved faster, so did his quarry. Hiccup broke into a run, with Toothless alongside him, and ahead, he heard a dragon roar. Now they were running flat out, and ahead he could see something big with wings. Then he turned a corner into a clearing and—

"AAAAAAAAAAAAAARRRRRRGGGHHHH! NOOOOOOOOOOOOOO!"

Hiccup woke as suddenly as though he'd been hit in the face. Disorientated in total darkness, he fumbled with his blanket—he could hear movements around him, and Wartihog voice from the other side of the room.

"What's going on?"

"I don't know," said Ragnar's voice. "It sounded like a girl screaming."

Then Hiccup realised who that scream belonged too. "Astrid!

He got out of bed and rushed out of the dormitory and the other boys followed him downstairs. The common room was lit by the glow of the dying fire, still littered with debris from the party deserted.

Hiccup then ran up the stairs to the girl dormitory, and heard Ragnar yell "Wait!" but too late, he was already running up them. Then seconds later the stairs disappeared and a slide was formed and Hiccup tumbled back down.

"What happened?" he asked, as Tuffnut and Wartihog helped him up.

"I tried to warn you, the founders thought that boys were untrustworthy than girls and… well, you saw what happened," Ragnar explained.

"Then how are we supposed to help Astrid," said Hiccup worriedly.

"She seems all right to me," said Tuffnut pointing.

Hiccup looked and sighed with relief. Astrid and the other girls, who were all wearing their dressing gowns were rushing down stairs, she looked like she'd seen a ghost.

"What happened?" Hiccup asked quickly.

Ruffnut looked at them and then back to Astrid and said, "Well, Astrid thought she saw… well-she thought she—"

Astrid walked up and looked at them. "I saw Alvin the Treacherous! With a knife!"

"_What?_"

"Just a few seconds ago! I heard his footsteps! And I woke up!"

"That's impossible," said Ragnar.

"I'm telling you, I saw him!"

"Are you sure you weren't dreaming, Astrid?" said Hiccup.

"No I wasn't," Astrid growled.

Just then a few girls had come down their staircase, pulling on dressing gowns and yawning. Boys, too, were reappearing.

"Excellent, are we carrying on?" said Double brightly.

"Everyone back upstairs!" said Sven, hurrying into the common room and pinning his Head Boy badge to his pyjamas as he spoke.

"Sven—Alvin the Treacherous!" said Astrid faintly. "In my dormitory! With a knife! Woke me up!"

The common room went very still.

"Nonsense!" said Sven, looking startled. "He'd never be able to enter in your dormitory, the founders made sure of that."

"I can vouch for that," said Hiccup.

"You must have had a nightmare—"

"I'm telling you—"

"Now, really, enough's enough!"

Phlegma was back. She slammed the portrait behind her as she entered the common room and stared furiously around.

"I am delighted that Gryffindor won the match, but this is getting ridiculous! Sven, I expected better of you!"

"I certainly didn't authorise this, ma'am!" said Sven, puffing himself up indignantly. "I was telling them all to get back to bed! My sister Astrid here had a nightmare—"

"IT'S WASN'T A NIGHTMARE!" Astrid yelled. "MA'AM, I WOKE UP, AND ALVIN THE TREACHEROUS WAS STANDING OVER ME, HOLDING A KNIFE!"

Phlegma stared at her.

"Don't be ridiculous, dear, how could he possibly have gotten through the portrait hole… let along into your dormitory?"

"Well, I don't know how he got into my dormitory, but you can ask him how he got into the common room!" said Astrid, pointing a finger at the back of Cadogan's picture. "Ask him if he saw—"

Glaring suspiciously at Astrid, Phlegma pushed the portrait back open and went outside. The whole common room listened with baited breath.

"Cadogan, did you just let a man enter the Gryffindor Common Room?"

"Certainly, good lady!" cried Cadogan.

There was a stunned silence, both inside and outside the common room.

"You—you _did_?" said Phlegma. "But—but the password!"

"He had 'em!" said Cadogan proudly. "Had the whole week's, M'lady! Read 'em off a little piece of paper!"

Phlegma pulled herself back through the portrait hole face the stunnded crowd. She was white as chalk.

"Which person," she said, her voice shaking, "which abysmally foolish person wrote down this week's passwords and left them lying around?"

There was utter silence, broken by the smallest of terrified squeaks. Fishlegs, trembling from head to fluffy-slippered toes, raised his hand slowly into the air.


	14. Grabbit's Grudge

**Please not that I'll be starting University again on Monday, So, my updates will be slower.**

* * *

No one in the Gryffindor Common Room slept that night. They knew that the fort was being searched again, and the whole house stayed awake in the common room, waiting to hear whether Alvin had been caught. Phlegma came back at dawn, to tell them that he had again escaped.

Everywhere they went next day saw signs of tighter security; Flitwick could be seen teaching the front doors to recognise a large picture of Alvin the Treacherous; Mildew was suddenly bustling up and down the corridors, boarding up everything from tiny cracks in the walls to mouse holes. Cadogan had been sacked. His portrait had been taken back to its lonely landing on the seventh floor, and the Fat Valkyrie was back. She had been expertly restored, but was still extremely nervous, and had only agreed to return to her job on condition that she was given extra protection. A bunch of surly security trolls had been hired to guard her. They paced the corridor in a menacing group, talking in grunts and comparing the size of their clubs.

Hiccup couldn't help noticing that the statue of the one-eyed Valkyrie on the third floor remained unguarded and unblocked. It seemed that Double and Trouble had been right in thinking that they—and now, Hiccup, Astrid and Ragnar—were the only ones who knew about the hidden passageway within it.

"Do you think we should tell someone?" Hiccup asked Astrid.

"We know he's not coming through Honeydukes," said Astrid dismissively. "We'd have heard if the shop had been broken into."

Hiccup was glad Astrid took this view. If the one-eyed Valkyrie was boarded up too, he would never be able to go into Berksmeade again.

Astrid had become an instant celebrity. For the first time in her life, people were paying more attention to her than to Hiccup, and it was clear that Astrid was rather enjoying the experience. Though still several shaken by the night's events, she was happy to tell anyone who asked, what had happened, with a wealth of detail.

"…I was asleep, and I heard footsteps, and I thought it was in my dream, you know? But then there was this draught… I woke up and I rolled over… and I saw him standing over me… like a skeleton, with loads of filthy hair… holding this great long knife, must've been twelve inches… and he looked at me, and I looked at him, and then I yelled, and he ran."

"Why, though?" Astrid added to Hiccup, as the group of second-year boys who had been listening to his chilling tale departed. "Why did he run away? And was he in my dorm?"

Hiccup had been wondering the same thing. Why had Alvin, went to the wrong dormitory, how did he get there when he, Hiccup, had failed to make five steps, not silenced Astrid and proceed to Hiccup? Alvin had proved twelve years ago that he didn't mind murdering innocent people, and this time he had been facing five unarmed girls, four of whom were asleep.

"He probably thought to use you as a hostage, because he didn't want to tackle me being the guy how to Drago Bludvist down," said Hiccup thoughtfully. "As for why he ran, he knew he'd have a job getting out of the mountain, through the village and off the island once you'd yelled and woken people up. He'd have to kill the whole house to get back through the portrait hole… then he would've met the teachers…"

Fishlegs was in total disgrace. Phlegma was so furious with him she had banned him from all future Berksmeade visits, given him a detention and forbidden anyone to give him the password into the Common Room. Poor Fishlegs was forced to wait outside the common room every night for someone to let him in, while the security trolls leered unpleasantly at him. None of those punishments, however, came close to matching the one his grandmother had in store for him. Two days after Alvin's break-in, she sent Fishlegs the very worst thing a Berk student could receive over breakfast—a Howler.

The academy Terrible Terrors swooped into the Great Hall, carrying the post as usual, and Fishlegs choked as Iggy landed in front of him, a scarlet envelope tried to his leg. Hiccup and Astrid, who were sitting opposite him, recognised the letter as a Howler at once—Astrid had got one from her mother the year before.

"Run for it, Fishlegs," Ragnar advised.

Fishlegs didn't need telling twice. He seized the envelope and, holding it before him like a bomb, sprinted out of the Hall, while the Slytherin table exploded with laughter at the sight of him. They heard the Howler go off outside—Fishlegs' grandmother's voice, magically maginified to a hundred time its usual volume, shrieking about hoe he had brought shame to the Ingerman Clan.

Hiccup was too busy feeling sorry for Fishlegs to notice immediately that he had a letter, too. Sharpshot got his attention by rubbing his arm.

"Oh—thanks, Sharpshot…"

Hiccup tore open the envelope while Sharpshot helped himself to some of Fishlegs' kippers. The note inside said:

_Dear Hiccup and Astrid,_

_How about having a cup of coffee with me this afternoon round six? I'll come and collect you from the mountain. WAIT FOR ME IN THE GREAT HALL, YOU'RE NOT ALLOWED OUT ON YOUR OWN._

_Cheers,_

_Gobber_

"He probably wants to hear all about Alvin!" said Astrid.

"So at six o'clock that afternoon, Hiccup and Astrid left the Gryffindor Common Room, passed the security trolls at a run, and headed down to the Great Hall.

Gobber was already waiting for them.

"All right, Gobber!" said Astrid. "I suppose you want to hear about Saturday night, do you—"

"I've already heard all abou' it," said Gobber, opening the front doors and leading them outside.

"Oh," said Astrid, looking slightly put out.

The first thing they saw on entering Gobber's workshop was Groundsplitter, who was laying out on top of Gobber's patchwork quilt, enjoying a large plate of dead ferrets. Averting his eyes from this unpleasant sight, Hiccup saw a gigantic, fur cape.

"What are they for, Gobber?" said Hiccup.

"Groundsplitter's case against the Committee fer the Disposal o' Dangerous Creatures," said Gobber. "This Friday. Him an' me'll be flyin' to London…"

Hiccup felt a nasty pang of guilt. He had completely forgotten that Groundsplitter's trail was so near, and judging by the uneasy look on Astrid's face, she had, too. They had also forgotten their promise about helping him prepare Groundsplitter's defence; the arrival of the Firebolt had driven it clean out of their minds.

Gobber poured them coffee and offered them a plate of Bath buns, but they knew better than to accept; they had too much experience of Gobber's cooking.

"I got somethin' ter discuss with you two," said Gobber, sitting himself between them and looking uncharacteristically serious.

"What?" said Hiccup.

"Ragnar," said Gobber

"What about him?" said Astrid.

"He's in a righ' state, that's what. He's bin comin' down ter visit me a lot since Snoggletog. Bin feelin' lonely. Firs' yeh weren' talking to him because o' the Firebolt, now yer not talkin' to him because his Terrible Terror—"

"Ate Scabbers!" Astrid interjected angrily.

"Because his Terrible Terror like all Terrible Terrors do," Gobber continued doggedly. "He's goin' through a rough time at the moment. Bitten off more'n he can chew, if yeh ask me, all the work he's tryin' ter do. Still found time ter help mw with Groundsplitter's case, mind… he's found some really good stuff fer me… reckon he'll stand a good chance now…"

"Gobber, we should've helped as well—sorry—" Hiccup began awkwardly.

"I'm not blamin' yeh!" said Gobber, waving Hiccup's apology aside. "Thor only knows yeh've had enough ter be getting' on with, I've seen yeh practisin' Dragon Racin' ev'ry hour o' the day an' night and seen ya work on the prosthetic tailfin for Toothless'—but I gotta tell yeh, I thought you two'd value yer friend more'n dragons and or rats. After all Vikin' before dragons," He then looked at Groundsplitter "but there are some exceptions."

Hiccup and Astrid exchanged uncomfortable looks.

"Really worried, he was, when Alvin nearly stabbed yeh, Astird. He's got his heart in the right place, Ragnar has, an' you two not talkin' to him—"

"If he'd just get rid of that Terrible Terror, I'd speak to him again!" Astrid said angrily, "but he's still sticking up got it! It's crazy, and he won't hear a word against it!"

"Ah, well, people can be a bit stupid abou' their pets," said Gobber wisely. Behind him, Groundsplitter spat a few ferret bones onto Gobber's pillow.

They spent the rest of their visit discussing Gryffindor's improved chances for the Dragon Racing Cup. At nine o'clock, Gobber walked them back up to the mountain.

A large group of people was bunched around the notice-board when they returned to the common room.

"Berksmeade, next weekend!" said Astrid, craning over the heads to read the new notice. "What do you think?" she added quietly to Hiccup, as they went to sit down.

"Well, Mildew hasn't done anything about the passage into Honeydukes…" Hiccup said, even more quietly.

"Hiccup!" said a voice in his right ear. Hiccup started and looked around at Ragnar, who was sitting at the table right behind them and cleaning a space in the wall of books that had been hiding her.

"Hiccup, if you go into Berksmeade again… I'll tell Phlegma about that map!" said Ragnar.

"Can you hear someone talking, Hiccup?" growled Astrid, not looking at Ragnar.

"Astrid, how can you let him go with you? After what Alvin the Treacherous nearly did to _you_! I mean, I'll tell—"

"So now you're trying to get Hiccup expelled!" said Astrid furiously. "Haven't you done enough damage this year?"

Ragnar was about to respond, but then Amber flew onto his lap. Ragnar glared at Astrid, gathered Amber up and hurried away towards the boys' dormitories.

"So how about it?" Astrid said to Hiccup, as though there had been no interruption. "Come on, last time we went you didn't see anything. You haven't even been inside Zonko's yet!"

Hiccup looked around to check that Ragnar was well out of earshot.

"Okay," he said. "But I'm taking the Invisibility Cape this time."

On Saturday morning, Hiccup packed his Invisibility Cape in his satchel, slipped the Marauder's Map into his pocket and went down to breakfast with everyone else. Ragnar kept shooting suspicious looks down the table at him, but he avoided his eye, and was careful to let him see him walking towards the side doors that lead to the Entrance Hall as everyone else proceeded to the front doors.

"Bye!" Hiccup called to Astrid. "See you when you get back!"

Astrid grinned and winked.

Hiccup hurried up the third floor, slipping the Marauder's Map out of his pocket as he went. Crouching behind the one-eyed Valkyrie, he smoothed it out. A tiny dot was moving in his direction. Hiccup squinted at it. The minuscule writing next to it read "_Fishlegs Ingerman_".

Hiccup quickly pulled out his sword, muttered "Endeavour!" and shoved his satchel into the statue, but before he could climb in himself, Fishlegs came around the corner.

"Hiccup! I forgot you weren't going to Berksmeade either!"

"Hi, Fishlegs," said Hiccup, moving swiftly away from the statue and pushing the map into his fur vest. "What are you up to?"

"Nothing," shrugged Fishlegs. "Want a game of Exploding Snap?"

"Uh—not now—I was going to go to the library and do that dark-elf essay for Johann—"

"I'll come with you!" said Fishlegs brightly. "I haven't done it either!"

"Uh—hang on—yeah, I forgot, I finished it last night!"

"Brilliant, you can help me!" said Fishlegs, his round face anxious. "I don't understand that thing about iron at all—do they have to be near it, or—"

Fishlegs broke off with a small gasp, looking over Hiccup's shoulder.

It was Grabbit. Fishlegs took a quick step behind Hiccup.

"And what are you two doing here?" said Grabbit, coming to a halt and looking from one to the other. "An odd place to meet—"

To Hiccup immense disquiet, Grabbit's black eyes flickered to the doorways on either side of them, and then to the one-eyed Valkyrie.

"We're not—meeting here," said Hiccup. "We just—met here."

"Indeed?" said Grabbit. "You have a habit of turning up in unexpected places, Haddock, and you are rarely there for no reason… I suggest the pair of you return to the Gryffindor Common Room where you belong."

Hiccup and Fishlegs set off without another word. As they turned the corner, Hiccup looked back. Grabbit was running one of his hands over the one-eyed Valkyrie's head, examining it closely.

Hiccup managed to shake Fishlegs off at the Fat Valkyrie by telling him the password then pretending he'd left his dark-elf essay in the library and doubling back. Once out of sight of the security trolls, he pulled out the map again and held it close to his nose.

The third-floor corridor seemed to be deserted. Hiccup scanned the map carefully and saw, with a leap of relief, that the tiny dot labelled "Grabbit the Grim" was now back in its house in the village.

He sprinted back to the one-eyed Valkyrie, opened her hump, heaved himself inside and slid down to meet his satchel at the bottom of the stone chute. He wiped the Marauder's Map blank again, then set off at a run.

* * *

Hiccup, completely hidden beneath the Invisibility Cape, emerged into the sunlight outside Honeydukes and prodded Astrid in the back.

"It's me," he muttered.

"What kept you?" Astrid hissed.

"Grabbit was hanging around…"

They set off up the High Street.

"Where are you?" Astrid kept muttering out of the corner of his mouth. "Are you still there? This feels weird…"

They went to the Post Office; Astrid pretended to be checking the price of a Terrible Terror to Bjorn in the Barbaric Archipelago so that Hiccup could have a good look around. The Terrible Terrors sat growling softy down at him, at least three hundred of them; all of whom had different coloured scales.

Then they visited Zonko's, which was so packed with students Hiccup had to exercise great care not to tread on anyone and cause a panic. There were jokes and tricks to fulfil even Double and Trouble's wildest dreams; Hiccup gave Astrid whispered orders and passed her some gold from under the Cape. They left Zonko's with their money bags considerably lighter than they had been on entering, but their pockets bulging with Dungbombs, Hiccough Sweets, Frog Spawn Soap and a Nose-Biting Coffee Mug apiece.

The day was fine and breezy, and neither of them felt like staying indoors, so they walked past the Green Dragon and climbed a slope to visit the Shrieking Shack, the most haunted dwelling in Britain. It stood a little way above the rest of the village, and even in daylight was slightly creepy, with its boarded windows and dank overgrown garden.

"Even the Berks ghosts avoid it," said Astrid, as they leaned on the fence, looking up at it. "I asked Nearly Headless Njal… he says he's heard a very rough crowd live here. No one can get in. Double and Trouble tried, obviously, but all the entrances are sealed shut…"

Hiccup, feeling hot from their climb, was just considering taking off the Cape for a few minutes, when they heard voices nearby. Someone was climbing towards the house from the other side of the hill; moments later, Snotlout had appeared, followed closely by Dogsbreath and Clueless was speaking.

"…Should have a Terrible Terror from Father any time now. He had to go to the hearing to tell them about my arm… about how I couldn't use it for three months…"

Dogsbreath and Clueless sniggered.

"I really wish I could hear that great pegged legged moron trying to defend himself… 'There's no 'arm in 'im, 'onest—'… that Whispering Death's as good as dead—"

Snotlout caught sight of Astrid. Suddenly a cocky grin appeared on his face.

"Hey, baba," said Snotlout sticking his chest out. "What brings a girl like you to a place like this?"

"That's none of your concern, Snotlout," said Astrid, crossing her arms

Snotlout looked up at the crumbling house behind Astrid.

"Maybe you want to live her away from your loser family? I heard your family all sleep in one room. You know if admit that their losers you could stay with me."

Hiccup seized Astrid's arm to stop her leaping on Snotlout.

"Leave him to me," he hissed in Astrid's ear.

The opportunity was too miss. Hiccup crept silently around behind Snotlout, Dogsbreath and Clueless, bent down and scooped a large handful of mud out of the path.

"We were just discussing your friend Gobber," Snotlout said to Astrid. "Just trying to imagine what he's saying to the Committee for the Disposal of Dangerous Creatures. D'you think he'll cry when they cut that Whispering Death's—"

SLAP!

Snotlout head jerked forwards as the mud hit him; his jet-black hair was suddenly dripping in muck.

"What the—?"

Astrid had to hold onto the fence to keep himself standing, she was laughing so herd. Snotlout, Dogsbreath and Clueless spun stupidly on the spot, staring wildly around, Snotlout trying to wipe his hair clean.

"What was that? Who did that?"

"Very haunted up here, isn't it?" said Astrid, with the air of one commenting on the weather.

Dogsbreath and Clueless were looking scared. Their bulging muscles were no use against ghosts. Snotlout was staring madly around at the deserted landscape.

Hiccup sneaked towards Dogsbeath and Clueless. Next moment, Hiccup pulled Dogsbreath's trousers down and while Dogsbreath bent down to pull them back up again, he shoved Clueless and he toppled over Dogsbreath and his face landed in some foul-smelling, green sludge.

"Something is over there!" said Snotlout, wiping his face, and staring at a spot some six feet to the left of Hiccup.

Dogsbeath got up and hobbled along, with his trousers still around his ankles, his arms outstreached like zombie. Hiccup dodged around him, picked up a stick, and lobbed it at Dosbreath's back. Hiccup doubled up with silent laughter as thrown it. As Astrid was the only person Clueless, who had gotten up as well and saw what happened to Dogsbreath, could see, he charged towards her, but Hiccup stuck out his leg. Clueless stumbled—and his huge, flat foot caught the hem of Hiccup's Cape. Hiccup felt a great tug, then the Cap slid off his face.

For a split second, Snotlout stared at him.

"AAARGH!" he screamed, pointing at Hiccup's head. Then he turned tail and ran, at breakneck speed, screaming like a little girl and back down the hill, Dogsbreath, who still hadn't pulled his trousers up, and Clueless behind him.

Hiccup tugged the Cape up again, but the damage was done.

"Hiccup! Astrid said, stumbling forward and staring hopelessly at the point where Hiccup had disappeared, "you'd better run for it! If Snotlout yells anyone—you'd better get back to the island, quick—"

"See you later," said Hiccup, and without another word, he tore back down the path towards Berksmeade.

Would Snotlout believe what he had seen? Would anyone believe Snotlout? Nobody knew about the Invisibility Cape—nobody except Heyral. Hiccup's stomach turned over—Heyral would know exactly what had happened, if Snotlout said anything—

Back into Honeydukes, back down the cellar steps, across the stone floor, through the trapdoor—Hiccup pulled off the Cape, tucked it under his arm, and ran, flat out, along the passage…

Snotlout would get back first… how long would it take him to find a teacher? Panting, a sharp pain in his side, Hiccup didn't slow down until he reached the stone slide. He would have to leave the Cape where it was, it was too much a giveaway if Snotlout had tipped off a teacher. He hid it in a shadowy corner, then started to climb, fast as he could, his sweaty hands slipped on the sides of the chute. He reached the inside of the Valkyrie's hump, tapped it with his sword, stuck his head through and hoisted himself out; the hump closed, and just as Hiccup jumped out from behind the statue, he heard quick footsteps approaching.

It was Grabbit. He approached Hiccup at a swift walk, his black cape swishing, then stopped in front of him.

"So," he said.

There was a look of suppressed triumph about him. Hiccup tried to look innocent, all too aware of his sweaty face and his muddy hands, which he quickly hid in his pockets.

"Come with me, Haddock," said Grabbit.

Hiccup followed him downstairs, trying to wipe his hands clean on the inside of his fur vest without Grabbit noticing. They walked through the Entrance Hall, through the doors of the Great Hall and down the steps towards the village.

Hiccup knew they were heading to Grabbit's house, he'd been in there once before, and he had been in very serious trouble then, too. As they entered, Hiccup noticed that Grabbit had acquired a few more horrible slimy things in jars since last time, all standing on shelves behind his desk, glinting in the firelight and adding to the threatening atmosphere.

"Sit," said Grabbit.

Hiccup sat. Grabbit, however, remained standing.

"Mr Jorgenson states that he was standing talking to Miss Hofferson, when a large amount of mud hit him in the back of the head. How do you think that could have happened?"

Hiccup tried to look mildly surprised.

"I don't know, sir."

Grabbit's eyes were boring in Hiccup's. It was exactly like trying to stare out a dragon. Hiccup tried hard not to blink.

"Mr Jorgenson then saw an extraordinary apparition. Can you imagine what it might have been, Haddock?"

"No," said Hiccup, now trying to sound innocently curious.

"It was your head, Haddock. Floating in mid-air."

There was a long silence.

"Maybe he'd better go to Flora," said Hiccup. "If he's seeing things like—"

"What would your head have been doing in Berksmeade, Haddock?" said Grabbit softly. "Your head is not allowed in Berksmeade. No part of your body has permission to be in Berksmeade."

"I know that," said Hiccup, striving to keep his face free of guilt or fear. "It sounds like Snotlout's have hallucin—"

"Jorgenson is not having hallucinations," snarled Grabbit, and he bent down, a hand on each arm of Hiccup's chair, so that their faces were a foot apart. "If your head was in Berksmeade, so was the rest of you."

"I've been up in the Gryffindor Common Room," said Hiccup. "Like you told—"

"Can anyone confirm that?"

Hiccup didn't say anything. Grabbit's thin mouth curled into a horrible smile.

"So," he said, straightening up again. "Everyone from the Minister of Magic downwards has been trying to keep famous Hiccup Haddock safe from Alvin the Treacherous. But famous Hiccup Haddock is a law unto himself. Let the ordinary people worry about his safety! Famous Hiccup Haddock goes where he want to, with no thought for the consequences."

Hiccup stayed silent. Grabbit was trying to provoke him into telling the truth. He wasn't going to do it. Grabbit had no proof—yet.

"How extraordinarily like your father you are, Haddock," Grabbit said suddenly, his eyes glinting. "He, too, was exceedingly arrogant. A small amount of talent on the Dragon Racing stadium made him think he was cut above the rest of us, too. Strutting around the place with his friends and admirers… the resemblance between you is uncanny."

"My dad didn't _strut_," said Hiccup, before he could stop himself. "And nor do I."

"Your father didn't set much store by rules, either," Grabbit went on, pressing his advantage, his thin face full of malice. "Rules were for lesser mortals, not Dragon Racing Cup-winners. His head was so swollen—"

"SHUT UP!"

Hiccup was suddenly on his feet. Rage such as he had not felt since his last night in Privet Drive was thundering through him. He didn't care that Grabbit's face had gone rigid, the black eyes flashing dangerously.

"_What did you say to me Haddock?_"

"I told you to shut up about my dad!" Hiccup yelled. "I know the truth, all right? He saved your life! Heyral told me! You wouldn't even be here if it weren't for my dad!"

Grabbit's sallow skin had gone the colour of sour milk.

"And did the Headmaster tell you the circumstances in which your father saved my life?" he whispered. "Or did he consider the details too unpleasant for precious Haddock's delicate ears?"

Hiccup bit his lip. He didn't know what had happened and didn't want to admit it—but Grabbit seemed to have guessed the truth.

"I would hate you to run away with a false idea of your father, Haddock," he said terrible grin twisting is face. "Have you been imagining some act of glorious heroism? Then let me correct you—your great father and his friends played a highly amusing joke on me that would have resulted in my death if your father hadn't got cold feet at the last moment. There was nothing brave about what he did. He was saving his own skin as much as mine. Had their joke succeeded, he would have been expelled from Berk."

Grabbit's uneven, yellowish teeth were bared.

"Turn out your pockets, Haddock!" he spat suddenly.

Hiccup didn't move. There was a pounding in his ears.

"Turn out your pockets, or we go straight to the Headmaster! Pull them out, Haddock!"

Cold dread, Hiccup slowly pulled out the bag of Zonko's tricks and the Marauder's Map.

Grabbit picked up the Zonko's bag.

"Astrid gave them to me," said Hiccup, praying he'd get a chance to tip Astrid off before Grabbit saw her. "She—brought them back from Berksmeade last time—"

"Indeed? And you've been carrying them round ever since? How very touching… and what is this?"

Grabbit had picked up the map. Hiccup tried with all his might to keep his face impassive.

"Spare bit of parchment," he shrugged.

Grabbit turned it over, his eyes on Hiccup.

"Surely you don't need such a very _old_ piece of parchment?" he said. "Why don't I just—throw this away?"

"No!" Hiccup said quickly.

"So!" said Grabbit, his long nostrils quivering. "Is this another treasured gift from Miss Hofferson? Or is it—something else? A letter, perhaps, written in invisible ink? Or—instructions to get into Berksmeade without passing the Dementors?"

Hiccup blinked. Grabbit's eyes glreamed.

"Let me see, let me see…" he muttered, pulling out his axe and smoothing the map out on his desk. "Reveal your secret!" he said, touching the axe to the parchment.

Nothing happened. Hiccup clenched his hands to stop them shaking.

"Show yourself!" Grabbit said, tapping the map sharply.

It stayed blank. Hiccup was taking deep, calming breaths.

"Grabbit the Grim, master of this academy, commands you to yield the information you conceal!" Grabibt said, hitting the map with his axe.

As though an invisible hand was writing upon it, words appeared on the smooth surface of the map.

"_Mr Moony present his compliments to Grabbit the Grim, and begs him to keep his abnormally large nose out of other people business_."

Grabbit froze. Hiccup stared, dumbstruck, at the message. But the map didn't stop there. More writing was appearing beneath the first.

"_Mr Fangs agrees with Mr Moony, and would like to add that Grabbit the Grim is an ugly oaf_."

It would have been funny if the situation hadn't been so serious. And there was more…

"_Mr Forge would like to know how Grabbit the Grim is fooling saying he is a master of an acadmeny_."

Hiccup gulped as more appeared…

"_Mr Padfoot would like to register his astonishment that an idiot like that ever had such a title_."

Hiccup closed his eyes in horror. When he'd opened them, the map had its last word.

"_Mr Wormtail bids Grabbit the Grim good day, and advise him to was his hair, the slimeball_."

Hiccup waited for the blow to fall.

He strode across to his fire, seized a fistful of glittering powered from a jar on the fireplace, and threw it into the flames.

"Johann!" Grabbit called into the fire. "I want a word!"

Utterly bewildered, Hiccup stared at the fire. A large shape had appeared in it, revolving very fast. Seconds later, Johann was clambering out of the fireplace, brushing ash off his shabby clothes.

"You called, Grabbit?" said Johann mildly.

"I certainly did," said Grabbit, his face contorted with furry as he strode back to his desk. "I have just asked Haddock to empty his pockets. He was carrying this."

Grabbit pointed at the parchment, on which the words of Messrs Moony, Wormtail, Padfoot, Forge and Fangs were still shining. An odd, closed expression appeared on Johann's face.

"Well?" said Grabbit.

Johann continued to stare at the map. Hiccup had the impression that Johann was doing some very quick thinking.

"_Well?_" said Grabbit again. "This parchment is plainly full of Dark Magic. This is supposed to be your area of expertise, Johann. Where do you imagine Haddock got such a thing?"

Johann looked up and, by the merest half-glance in Hiccup's direction, warning him not to interrupt.

"Full of Dark Magic?" he repeated mildly. "Do you really think so, Grabbit? It looks to me as though it is merely a piece of parchment that insults anybody who tries to read it. Childish, but surely not dangerous? I imagine Hiccup got it from a joke-shop—"

"Indeed?" said Grabbit. His jaw had gone rigid with anger. "You think a joke-shop could supply him such a thing? You don't think it more likely that he got it _directly from the manufactures_?"

Hiccup didn't understand what Grabbit was talking about. Nor, apparently, did Johann.

"You mean, from Mr Wormtail or one of these people?" he said. "Hiccup, do you know any of these men?"

"No," said Hiccup quickly.

"You see, Grabbit?" said Johann, turning back to Grabbit. "It looks like a Zonko product to me—"

Right on cue, Astrid came bursting into the house. She was completely out of breath, and stopped just short of Grabbit's desk, clutching the stich in her chest and trying to speak.

"I—gave—Hiccup—that—stuff," she choked. "Brought—it—in Berksmeade—ages—ago…"

"Well!" said Johann, clapping his hands together and looking around cheerfully. "That seems to clear that up! Grabbit, I'll take this back, shall I?" He folded the map and tucked it inside his jacket. "Hiccup, Astrid, come with me, I need a word about my dark-elf essay. Excuse me, Grabbit."

Hiccup didn't dare look at Grabbit as they left his office. He, Astrid and Johann walked all the way to the doors of the Great Hall before speaking. Then Hiccup turned to Johann.

"Sir, I—"

"I don't want to hear explanations," said Johann shortly. He glanced around and lowered his voice. "I happen to know that this map was confiscated by Mildew many years ago. Yes, I know it's a map," he said, as Hiccup and Astrid looked amazed. "I don't want to know how it fell into your possession. I am, however, _astounded_ that you didn't hand it in. Particularly after what happed the last time a student left information about the fort lying around. And I can't let you have it back, Hiccup."

Hiccup had expected that, and was too keen for explanations to protest.

"Why did Grabbit think I'd got it from the manufacturers?"

"Because…" Johann hesitated, "because these mapmakers would have wanted to lure you out of the academy. They'd think it extremely entertaining."

"Do you _know_ them?" said Hiccup impressed.

"We've met," he said shortly. He was looking at Hiccup more seriously than ever before.

"Don't expect me to cover up for you again, Hiccup. I cannot make you take Alvin the Treacherous seriously. But I would have thought that what you heard when the Dementors draw near you would have had more of an effect on you. Your parents gave their lives to keep you alive, Hiccup. A poor way to repay them—gambling their sacrifice for a bag of magic tricks."

He walked away, leaving Hiccup feeling worse by far than he had at any point in Grabbit's office. Slowly, he and Astrid entered the Great Hall, through the door into the Entrance Hall and mounted the marble staircase. As Hiccup passed the one-eyes Valkyrie, he remembered the Invisibility Cape—it was still down there, but he didn't dare go and get it.

"It's my fault," said Astrid abruptly. "I persuaded you to go, Johann's right, it was stupid, we shouldn't have done it—"

She broke off; they had reached the corridor where the security trolls were pacing, and Ragnar was walking towards them. One look at her face convinced Hiccup that he had heard what had happened. His heart plummeted—had he told Phlegma?

"Come to have a good gloat?" said Astrid savagely, as he stopped in front of them. "Or have you just been to tell on us?"

"No," said Ragnar. He was holding a letter in his hands and his face looked as grim as Grabbit's. "I just thought you ought to know… Gobber lost his case. Groundsplitter is going to be executed."


	15. The Dragon Racing Final

"H-he sent me this," Ragnar said, holding out the letter.

Hiccup took it. The parchment read.

_Dear Ragnar,_

_We lost. I'm allowed to bring him back to Berk. Excitation date to be fixed._

_Groundsplitter has enjoyed London._

_I won't forget all the help you gave me._

_Gobber_

"They can't do this," said Hiccup. "They can't. Groundsplitter isn't dangerous."

"Snotlout's dad's frightened the Committee into it," said Ragnar angrily. "You know what he's like. They'll be an appeal, though, there always is. Only I can't see any hope… nothing will have changed."

"Yeah, it will," said Astrid fiercely. "You won't have to do all the work alone this time, Rag. I'll help."

"Astrid, I'm really sorry about Scabbers…" he said rubbing the back of his head.

"Oh—well—he was old," said Astrid awkwardly. "And he was a bit useless. You never know, Mum and Dad might get me a Terrible Terror now."

* * *

The safety measures imposed on the students since Alvin's second break-in made it impossible for Hiccup, Astrid and Ragnar to go visit Gobber in the evenings. Their only chance of talking to him was during Forge lessons.

He seemed numb with shock at the verdict.

"I just stood their telling the stuff ya told me Ragnar, telling them that Groundsplitter was a good dragon always cleaned his teeth. An' then Spitelout got up an' ya can imagine he said the Groundsplitter was dangerous and deadly creature that Groundsplitter kill will ya as soon as look at ya. The Cmmotter jus' did exac'ly what he told 'em…"

"There's still the appeal!" said Astrid fiercely. "Don't give up yet, we're working on it!"

They were walking back up to the mountain with the rest of the class. Ahead they could see Snotlout, who was walking with Dogsbreath and Clueless, and kept looking back, laughting derisively.

"'S' no good, Astrid," said Gobber sadly as they reached the mountain steps. "That Committee's in the palm of Spitelout's hand. I'm jus' gonna make sure the rest o' Groundsplitter's time is the happiest he's ever had. I owe him that…"

Gobber turned round and hurried back towards his workshop.

"Look at him blubber!"

Snotlout, Dogsbreath and Clueless had been standing just inside the mountain doors, listening.

"Have you ever seen anything quite as pathetic?" said Snotlout. "And he's supposed to be our teacher!"

Before Hiccup and Ragnar could stop her, Astrid punched Snotlout so hard in the face that his nose broke. Dogsbreath and Clueless didn't rush in to help, Hiccup couldn't blame them Astrid was terrifying.

"Don't you _dare_ call Gobber pathetic, you son of a half troll—"

"Astrid!" said Hiccup, as he and Ragnar each grabbed an arm to hold her back.

"Get _off_, guys!"

Snotlout got up and placed a hand on his bleeding nose and one look on Astrid, who face could scare Thor himself, and ran. Dogsbreath and Clueless followed him down to the village towards the healing centre.

"Hiccup, you'd better beat him in the Dragon Racing Final or else!" Astrid warned.

"Yes, ma'am," said Hiccup weakly.

"Boy, I got easy," said Ragnar stunned.

"Yes, you did," Astrid agreed and looked at the running form of Snotlout and smirked. "But that felt good."

They hurried up the marble staircase towards Flitwick the Charmer's Core Magic class.

After the lesson, which in evolved them mastering another Core Magic, Hiccup began to learn Wind Magic, Astrid Fire Magic and Ragnar Earth Magic, they went to their next class, Soothsaying.

They reached the Mountain Peak, where small bomb fires all of which had different colours. Hiccup, Astrid and Ragnar sat down together near the one with crimson flames.

"I thought we weren't starting fire signs until next term," Astrid muttered, casting a wary eye around for Gothi, in case she appeared out of one of the fires.

"Don't complain this means we've finished omens," Hiccup muttered back. "I'm getting sick of seeing death omens everywhere."

"Good say to you!" said the familiar, misty voice, and Gothi made her usual dramatic entrance out of her cabin. Agatha and Maria quivered with excitement, their faces lit by their turquoise flames.

"I have decided to introduce fire signs a little earlier than I planned," said Gothi, seating herself by an emerald green fire. "I have this feeling that learning fire signs will help you later on in life, and I am anxious to give you sufficient practise."

Ragnar snorted.

"Well, honestly… 'I have this feeling'… who sets the exam? She does! What an amazing prediction!" he said, not troubling to keep his voice low.

It was hard to tell whether Gothi had heard them, as he face was hidden in shadow. He continued, however, as though she had not.

"Fire signs is a particularly refined art," she said. "I do not expect any of you to See when first you peer into the flames infinite depth. These enchanted flames have had a special type of herb burning inside which will help you. But you need to keep an open mind when gazing at the flames"—Astrid began to snigger uncontrollably, and had to cover her mouth to stifle the noise—"so as to clear the Inner Eye and the superconscious. Perhaps, if we are lucky, some of you will See before the end of the class."

And so they began. Hiccup, at least felt extremely foolish, staring blankly at the flames, trying to keep his mind empty when thoughts such as "this is stupid" kept drifting across it. It didn't help that Astrid kept breaking into silent giggles and Ragnar kept tutting.

"Seen anything yet?" Hiccup asked them, after a quarter of an hour's quiet fire-gazing.

"Yeah, there's a burn on the floor," said Astrid, pointing. "Someone's been playing with fire."

"This is such a waste of time," Ragnar hissed. "I could be practising something useful. I could have master Earth Magic—"

Gothi rustled past.

"Would anyone like me to help them interpret the shapes with their flames?" she murmured over the cracking of the flames.

"I don't need help," Hiccup whispered. "It's obvious that this means. Raven's Point is going to set ablaze tonight."

Both Astrid and Ragnar burst out laughing.

"Now, really!" said Gothi, as everyone's heads turned in their direction. Agatha and Maria were looking scandalised. "You are disturbing the class!" She approached their table and peered into their flames. Hiccup knew what was going to happen before Gothi gasped as id Ragnar.

"Oh, here go," said Ragnar.

"There is something here!" Gothi whispered, gazing into the flames. "Something moving…"

Hiccup was prepared to bet everything he owned, including his Firebolt, that it had something to do with a big, black dog.

"Let me guess…" said Ragnar loudly, "the ridiculous Signpost of Valhalla."

Gothi raised an eyebrow to Ragnar. Agatha whispered something to Maria, and they both glared at Ragnar. Gothi stood up, surveying Ragnar with unmistakeable anger.

"My dear, I understand that you do not believe in the art of Soothsaying. But there is nothing ridiculous about the Signpost of Valhalla, I can clearly see a big, black dog in young Hiccup's future and what I find difficult to understand is why you remain her if you don't believe."

There was a moment's silence. Then—

"Fine!" said Ragnar suddenly, getting up and cramming _Unfogging the Future_ back into his satchel. "Fine!" he repeated, swinging the satchel over his shoulder and almost knocking Astrid to the floor. "I give up! I'm leaving!"

And to the whole class's amazement, Ragnar strode over to the trapdoor, kicked it open, and climbed down the ladder out of sight.

It took a few minutes for the class to settle down again. Gothi seemed to have forgotten that she was looking in Hiccup's fire a moment ago. She turned abruptly from Hiccup and Astrid's table, breathing rather heavily.

"Ooooo!" said Agatha suddenly, making everyone start. "Ooooo, ma'am, I've just remembered! You saw him leaving, didn't you? Didn't you, ma'am? "_Around Thor's day_ o_ne of our number will leave us forever!_" You said it _ages_ ago, ma'am!"

Gothi gave her a dewy smile.

"Yes, my dear, I did indeed know that Mr Keatson would leave us. However, I'm glad that he's alive, normally when I see the word _forever_ it means death."

Astrid looked at Hiccup worriedly. "You do realise that if she was correct about Ragnar leaving chances are that she was correct about the Signpost of Valhalla," she said to Hiccup.

"Yeah…"

Hiccup glanced into the flames, but saw nothing but the fire itself. Had Gothi really seen the Signpost of Valhalla again? Would he? The last thing he needed was another near-fatal accident, with the Dragon Racing final drawing ever nearer.

* * *

The Thor's Day holidays were not exactly relaxing. The third-years had never had so much homework. Fishlegs seemed close to a nervous collapse, and he wasn't the only one.

"Call this a holiday!" Wartihog roared at the common room one afternoon. "The exams are ages away, what're they playing at?"

But nobody had as much to do as Ragnar. Even without Soothsaying, he was taking more subjects than anybody else. He was usually last to leave the common room at night, first to arrive at the library next morning; he had shadows like Johann's under his yes.

Astrid had taken over responsibility for Groundsplitter's appeal. When she wasn't doing her own work, she was poring over enormously thick volumes with names like _The Handbook of Whispering Death Psychology_ and _Tooth and Spine? A Study of Whispering Death Brutality_. She was so absorbed, she even forgot to be horrible to Amber.

Hiccup, meanwhile, had to fit in his homework around Dragon Racing practice every day, not to mention endless discussions of tactics with Eret. The Gryffindor—Slytherin match would take place on the first Saturday after the Thor's Day holidays. Slytherin were leading the tournament by exactly two hundred points. This meant (as Eret constantly reminded him) that they needed to win the match by more than that amount to win the Cup. It also meant that the burden of winning dell largely on Hiccup, because capturing the Snitch was worth one hundred and fifty points.

"So you must _only_ catch it if we're _more_ than fifty points up," Eret told Hiccup constantly. "Only if we're more than fifty points up, Hiccup, or we win the match but lose the Cup. You've got that, haven't you? you must only catch the Snitch if we're—"

"I KNOW, ERET!" Hiccup yelled.

Hiccup knew this all too well which is why he'd been busy upgrading Toothless' prosthetic tailfin. He made a stronger connecting rod that would allow him and Toothless to turn sharper and quicker and created a new tailfin that was as thin as paper and stronger than before. He hoped that with all these improvements will help him in the match.

The whole Gryffindor house was obsessed with the coming match. Gryffindor hadn't won the Dragon Racing Cup since the legendary Riptide the Researcher (Astrid's second-oldest brother) had been Seeker. But Hiccup doubted whether any of them, even Eret, wanted to win as much as he did. The enmity between Hiccup and Snotlout was at its highest point ever. Snotlout was still smarting about the mud-throwing incident in Berksmeade, and even more furious that Hiccup had somehow wormed his way out of punishment. Hiccup didn't forgotten Snotlout's attempt to sabotage him in the match against Ravenclaw, but it was the matter of Groundsplitter that made him most determined to best Snotlout in front of the entire academy.

Never, in anyone's memory, had a match approached in such a highly charged atmosphere. By the time the holidays were over, tension between the two teams and their houses was at breaking-points. A number of small scuffles broke out in the corridors, culminating in a nasty incident in which a Gryffindor fourth-year and a Slytherin sixth-year ended in the healing centre with their hair smoking.

Hiccup was having a particularly bad time of it. He couldn't walk to class without Slytherins sticking out their legs and trying to trip him up.; Dogsbreath and Clueless kept popping up wherever he went, and slouching away disappointed when they saw him surrounded by people. Eret had given instructions that Hiccup should be accompanied everywhere, including in the bathroom, in case the Slytherins tried to put him out of action. The whole Gryffindor house took up the challenge enthusiastically, so that it was impossible for Hiccup to get to class on time because he was surrounded by a vast, chattering crowd. Hiccup was more concerned for Toothless, who was guarded by the Gryffindor dragons in case the Slytherins tried anything.

* * *

All usual pursuits were abandoned in the Gryffindor common room the night before the match. Even Ragnar had put down his books.

"I can't work, I can't concentrate," he said nervously.

There was a great deal of noise. Double and Trouble were dealing with the pressure by being louder and more exuberant than ever. Eret was crouched over a model of a Dragon Racing stadium in the corner, prodding little figures across it with some Wind Magic and muttered to himself. Alfhild, Ase and Kari were laughting at Double and Trouble's jokes. Hiccup was sitting with Astrid and Ragnar, removing from the centre of things, trying not to think about the next day, because every time he did, he had the horrible sensation that something very large was fighting to get out of his stomach.

"You're going to be fine," Ragnar told him, though he looked positively terrified.

"You've got a _Night Fury _and a _Firebolt_!" said Astrid.

"Yeah…" said Hiccup, his stomach writhing.

It came as a relief when Eret suddenly stood up and yelled, "Team! Bed!"

* * *

Hiccup slept badly. First he dreamed that he had overslept, and that Eret was yelling, "Where were you? We had to use Fishlegs instead!" Then he dreamed that Snotlout and the rest of the Slytherin team arrived for the match riding Red Deaths, dragons that were the size of a small mountain. He was flying at breakneck speed, trying to avoid a spurt of flames form Snotlout's steed's mouth, when he realised that he had forgotten Toothless. He fell through the air and woke with a start.

It was a few seconds before Hiccup remembered that the match hadn't taken place yet, that he was safe in bed and that the Slytherin team definitely wouldn't be allowed to play on Red Deaths. He was feeling very thirsty. As quietly as he could, he got out of his bed and went to put himself some water from the sliver jug beneath the window.

The farms were still and quiet. No breath of wind disturbed the treetops of Raven's Point; the Whomping Willow was motionless and innocent-looking. It looked as though conditions for the match would be perfect.

Hiccup set down the goblet and was about to turn back to his bed when something caught his eye. An animal of some kind was prowling across the silvery lawn.

It couldn't be the Signpost of Valhalla—not now—not right before the match—

He peered out at the grounds again and, after a minute's frantic searching, spotting it. It was skirting the edge of Raven's Point now… it wasn't the Signpost of Valhalla at all… it was a Terrible Terror… Hiccup clutched the window-ledge in relief as he recognised the bright orange scales. It was only Amber…

Or _was_ it only Amber? Hiccup squinted, pressing his nose flat against the glass. Amber seemed to have come to a halt. Hiccup was sure he could see something else moving in the shadow of the trees, too.

And next moment, it had emerged: a gigantic, shaggy black dog, moving stealthily across the lawn, Amber flew over to its side. Hiccup stared. What did this mean? If Amber could see the dog as well, how could it be an omen of Hiccup's death?

"Rag!" Hiccup hissed. "Rag! Wake up!"

"Huh?"

"I need you to tell me if you can see something!"

"It's all dark," Ragnar muttered thickly. "What're you on about?"

"Down here—"

Hiccup looked quickly back out of the window.

Amber and the dog had vanished. Hiccup climbed onto the window-sill to look right down into the shadows of the fort, but they weren't there. Where had they gone?

* * *

Hiccup and the rest of the Gryffindor team entered the Great Hall next day to enormous applause. Hiccup couldn't help grinning broadly as he saw that both Ravenclaw and Hufflepuff tables were clapping them, too. The Slytherin table hissed loudly as they passed. Hiccup noticed that Snotlout looked more grumpy than usual.

Eret spent the whole of breakfast urging his team to eat, while touching nothing himself. Then he hurried them off to the stadium before anyone else had finished, so they could get an idea of the conditions. As they left the Great Hall, everyone applauded again.

"Good luck, Hiccup!" called Astrid, who standing next to Heather. Hiccup felt himself blushing and could have sworn that both Astrid and Heather were talking and giggling.

"Okay… no wind to speak of… sun's a bit bright, that could impair your vision, watch out for it…"

Eret paced around the stadium, staring around with the team behind him. Finally they saw dragons flying over towards them, the rest of the academy were coming.

"Changing rooms," said Eret tersely.

None of them speak as they placed the scarlet face paint on their faces and painted their dragons. Hiccup wondered if they were feeling like he was: as though he's eaten something extremely wriggly for breakfast. In what seemed like no time at all, Eret was saying, "Okay, it's time, let's go…"

They mounted their dragons and flew out onto the stadium to a tidal wave of noise. Three quarters of the crowd were wearing scarlet face paint, waving scarlet flags with the Gryffindor Monstrous Nightmare upon them or brandishing banners with slogans such as "Go GRYFFINDOR!" and "NIGHTMARES FOR THE CUP!" Behind the Slytherin basket, however, two hundred people were wearing green face paint; the silver Hideous Zippleback of Slytherin glittered on their flags, and Grabbit sat in the very front row, wearing green face paint like everyone else, and a very grim smile.

"And here are the Gryffindors!" yelled Lock Jordson, who was acting as commentator as usual. "Haddock, Bellson, Jerkson, Spinson, Hofferson, Hofferson and Eretson and their dragons, Toothless, Boom, Fireworm, Gruff, Spike, Strike and Skullcrusher. Widely acknowledged as the best side of Berk has seen in a good few years—"

Lock's comments were drowned by a tide of "boos" from the Slytherin end.

"And here come the Slytherin team, led by captain Dagur Owson. He's made some changes in the line-up and seems to be going for size and power rather than skill and agility—"

More boos from the Slytherin crowd. Hiccup, however, thought Lock had a point. Snotlout was easily the smallest on the Slytherin team; the rest of them were enormous and all their dragons apart from Dagur's Skrill, Deathwing, were built for power relief than speed.

"Captains, shake hands!" said Madam Hooch.

Dagur and Eret flew closer to one another and grasped each other's hands very tightly; it looked as though each was trying to break the other's fingers.

"On my count!" said Madam Hooch. "Three… two… one…"

The sound of her whistle was lost in the roar from the crowd as fourteen dragons went off in all directions. Hiccup felt his hair fly back off his forehead; his nerves left him in the thrill of the flight; he glanced around, saw Snotlout and Hookfang on his and Toothless tail, and sped off in cearch of the Snitch.

"And Gryffindor Alfhild Spinson has caught a Quaffle and heading straight for the Slytherin basket, looking good, Alfhild! Argh, no—the Quaffle intercepted by Asger Pucson, he and Fangcrusher are tearing up the stadium—WHAM!—nice Bludge work there by Trouble Hofferson, Asger dropped the Quaffle, it's caught by Ase Jerkson and Alfhild has got her hands on another Quaffle too, come on—oh Alfhild had got blasted by Dagur's Skrill, Deathwing, she's lost the Quaflle, bust she's all right. However, Ase had swerved around Grath Montson—_duck, Ase, that's a Bludger!_—SHE SCORES! TEN-ZERO TO GRYFFINDOR!"

Ase punched that air as she and Fireworm soared round the end of the stadium; the sea of scarlet below was screaming its delight—

"OUCH!"

Ase was nearly thrown from Fireworm as Dagur fired a lighting blast at her.

"Sorry!" said Dagur, as the crowd below booed. "Deathwing is sometimes hard to control!"

Next moment, Double Hofferson had chucked his Beater's club at the back of Dagur's head. Dagur's nose smashed into Deathwing's back and gave him a small electrical shock.

"That will do!" shrieked Madam Hooch, zooming between them on Timberjack, Stokehead. "Penalty to Gryffindor for an unprovoked attack on their Chaser! Penalty to Slytherin for deliberate damage to _their_ Chaser!"

"Come off it, Ma'am!" howled Double, but Madam Hooch blew her whistle and two Quaffles flew into Alfhild and Dagur's hands. Then Alfhild flew over to the Slytherin baskets to take her penalty.

"Come on, Alfhild!" yelled Lock into the silence that had descended on the crowd. "YES! SHE'S BEATEN THE KEEPER! TWENTY-ZERO TO GRYFFINDOR!"

Hiccup turned Toothless sharply to watch Dagur, still twitching from his electrical shock, and Deathwing, fly towards to take the Slytherin penalty. Eret and Skullcrusher were hovering in front of the Gryffindor basket, his jaw clenched.

"Course, Eret's a superb Keeper!" Lock Jordson told the crowd, as Dagur waited for Madam Hooch's whistle. "Superb! Very difficult to pass—very difficult indeed—YES! I DON'T BELIEVE IT! HE'S SAVED IT!"

Relived, Hiccup and Toothless zoomed away, gazing around for the Snitch, but still making sure he caught every work of Lock's commentary. It was essential that he hold Snotlout off the Snitch until Gryffindor was more than fifty points up…

"Gryffindor has possession, no, Slytherin now has possession—on!—Gryffindor back in possession and its Kair Bellson, Kair Bellson for Gryffindor with a Quaffle, she's streaking up the stadium—THAT WAS DELIBERATE!"

Grath had swerved in front of Kair, and instead of seizing the Quaffle, had grabbed her head. Gruff cartwheeled in the air, Kair managed to stay on him but dropped the Quaffle.

Madam Hooch's whistle rang out again as she soared over to Grath and began shouting at him. A minute later, Kair had put another penalty past the Slytherin Keeper.

"THIRTY-ZERO! TAKE THAT, YOU DIRTY, CHEATING—"

"Jordson, if you can't commentate in an unbiased way—!"

"I'm telling it like it is, ma'am!"

Hiccup felt a huge jolt of excitement. He had seen the Snitch—it was shimmering at the foot of the Gryffindor basket—but he mustn't catch it yet. And if Snotlout saw it…

Faking a look sudden concentration, Hiccup pulled on the stirrup and Toothless sped off towards the Slytherin end. It worked. Snotlout went haring after him, clearly thinking Hiccup had seen the Snitch there…

WHOOSH.

One of the Bludgers came streaking past Hiccup's right ear, hit by the gigantic Slytherin Beater, Olin Derson. Next moment—

WHOOSH.

The second Bludger had grazed Hiccup's elbow. The other Beater, Loki Boleson, was closing in.

Hiccup had a fleeting glimpse of Olin and Loki zooming towards him, clubs raised—

"Okay, bud, let's do it!" Hiccup yelled.

Toothless nodded in response and raised his wings out. Next moment Toothless was zooming towards Olin and Loki just managed to void Toothless banging into them, but now Hiccup and Toothless were behind them.

"Okay, bub, multiple blasts!"

Toothless then fired two plasma blasts straight at Olin and Loki. Loki was able to avoid it, but Olin fell off Blindshot, one half of a Hideous Zippleback, and fell into the water below.

"Hah haa!" yelled Lock, as Olin was helped out of the water by some Slytherin supporters. "Too, bad, boys! You'll need to get up earlier than that to beat a Night Fury and its Firebolt saddle! And it's Gryffindor in possession again, as Ase takes another Quaffle—Dagur alongside her—poke him in the eye, Ase!—it was a joke, ma'am, it was a joke—oh, no—Dagur in possession, Dagur flying towards the Gryffindor basket, come on, now, Eret, save—!"

But Dagur had scored; there was an eruption of cheers from the Slytherin end and Lock swore so badly that Phlegma tried to tug the magical megaphone away from him.

"Sorry, ma'am, sorry! Won't happen again! So, Gryffindor in the lead, thirty points to ten, and Gryffindor is possession of another Quaffle—"

It was turning into dirtiest match Hiccup had ever played in. Enraged that Gryffindor had taken such an early lead and that they lost one of their Beaters, the Slytherins were rapidly resorting to many means to take the Quaffle. Loki hit Alfhild with his club and tried to say he's thought she was a Bludger. Trouble elbowed Loki in the face in retaliation. Madam Hooch awarded both teams penalties, and Eret pulled off another spectacular save, making the score forty-ten to Gryffindor.

The Snitch had disappeared again. Snotlout was still keeping close to Hiccup as he and Hookfang soared over the match, looking around for it—once Gryffindor were fifty points ahead…

Kair scored. Fifty-ten. Double and Trouble were swooping around her, clubs raised, in case any of the Slytherins were thinking of revenge. Loki took advantage of Double and Trouble's absence to aim a Bludger at Eret; it caught him in the stomach and he almost fell off if it wasn't for Skullcrusher keeping him balanced, Eret warped an arm around his stomach, completely winded.

Madam Hooch was beside herself.

"_You do nor attach the Keeper unless the Quaffle is within the scoring area_!" she shrieked at Loki. "Gryffindor penalty!"

And Ase scored. Sixty-ten. Moments later, Double pelted a Bludger at Asger both knowing him into the water and knocking a Quaffle out of his hands; Alfhild seized it and put it through the Slytherin goal: seventy-ten.

The Gryffindor crowd below were screaming themselves hoarse—Gryffindor were sixty points in the lead, and if Hiccup caught the Snitch now, the Cup was theirs. Hiccup almost feel hundreds of eyes following him and Toothless as they soared around the stadium, high above the rest of the game, with Snotlout and Hookfang speeding along behind them.

And then he saw it. The Snitch was sparkling twenty feet above him.

Hiccup pulled on the stirrup and gave Toothless a burst of speed, the wind roaring in his ears; he stretched out his hand, but suddenly, Toothless was slowing down—

"Toothless! What the matter, bud?" he asked.

Then he looked around and was horrified. Snotlout had thrown himself forward, grabbing hold of Toothless' tail and Hookfang, who had bit on his foot, was pulling them back.

"You—"

Hiccup was angry enough to hit Snotlout, but he couldn't reach, he knew that Toothless was angry as well, but was too busy flapping his wings trying to keep the aloft to do anything. Snotlout looked as if he was in pain, but his eyes were sparkling maliciously. He had achieved what he's wanted—the Snitch had disappeared again.

"Penalty! Penalty to Gryffindor! I've never seen such tactics!" Madam Hooch screeching, shooting up to where Snotlout was sliding back on Hookfang and his Nimbus Two Thousand and One saddle.

"YOU CHEATING SCUM!" Lock was howling into the megaphone, dancing out of Phlegma's reach. "YOU FILTHY, CHEATING B—"

Phlegma didn't even bother to tell him off. She was actually shaking her fist in Snotlout's direction showing the academy how she got the title "the Fierce" if she wasn't in the stands she'd probably beaten him to death. So instead she was shouting furiously at him and slamming her helmet on the bench she was sitting on.

Alfhild took Gryffindor's penalty, but she was so angry she missed by several feet. The Gryffindor team was losing concentration and the Slytherins, delighted by Snotlout's foul on Hiccup, were being spurred on to greater heights.

"Slytherin in possession, Slytherin heading for basket—Grath scores—" Lock groaned. "Seventy-twenty to Gryffindor…"

Hiccup was now marking Snotlout so closely their knees kept hitting each other. Hiccup wasn't going to let Snotlout anywhere near the Snitch…

"Get out if it, Useless!" Snotlout yelled in frustration, as he tried to slam him with his mace, but Hiccup kept blocking his attacks with his own sword.

"Ase Jerkson gets a Quaffle for Gryffindor, come on, Ase, COME ON!"

Hiccup looked round. Every single Slytherin player apart from Snotlout, even the Slytherin Keeper, was streaking up the stadium towards Ase—they were all going to block her—

Hiccup turned Toothless around and together they zoomed towards the Slytherins like a bullet.

"Toothless! Now!"

Toothless then fired a series of plasma blasts at the Slytherins and every one of them, apart from Dagur got hit, and fell into the water below. This meant that Ase had a clean run.

"SHE SCORES! SHE SCORES! What an amazing pierce of teamwork by Hiccup, not only is Gryffindor ahead by sixty points and only two Slytherin are left!"

Toothless, who had almost pelted headlong into the stands, skidded to a halt in mid-air, spun around and zoomed back into the middle of the stadium.

And then he saw something to make his heart stand still. Snotlout was diving, a look of triumph on his face—there, a few feet above the water below, was a tiny, dark glimmer.

Hiccup urged Toothless downwards but Snotlout was miles ahead.

"Come on, bud! You can do it!" Hiccup urged Toothless. they were gaining on Snotlout… Hiccup flattened himself on Toothless' back as Dagur, who gave up chasing a Quaffle, began firing lighting blasts at them… he was at Snotlout's ankles… he was level—

Suddenly a lighting blast hit Snotlout paralysing him and who seemed to babbling like an idiot. This was Hiccup's chance, taking both hands off the saddles reins and—

"YES!"

He pulled out of his dive, his hand in the air, and the stadium exploded. Hiccup soared above the crowd, an odd ringing in his ears. The tiny black ball was held tight in his fist, beating its wings hopelessly against his fingers.

Then Eret was speeding towards him, half-blinded by tears; he seized Hiccup around the neck and sobbed unrestrainedly into his shoulder. Hiccup felt two large thumps as Double and Trouble hit them; then Ase, Alfhild and Kair's voices, "_We've won the Cup! We've won the Cup!_" Tangled together in a many-armed hug, their dragon roared so loudly that they could be heard from Asgard, the Gryffindor team sank, yelling hoarsely, back to earth.

Wave upon wave of crimson supporters was pouring over the barriers onto their dragons and flying up towards them. Hands were raining down on their backs. Hiccup had a confused impression of noise and bodies pressing in on him. Then when they were on the pontoons he, and the rest of the team, were hoisted onto the shoulders of the crowd. Thrusting into the light, he saw Gobber, plastered with crimson face paint—"Yeh beat 'em Hiccup, yeh beat 'em! Ya father would be so proud!" There was Sven, jumping up and down like a maniac, all dignity forgotten. Phlegma was sobbing harder even than Eret, wiping her eyes with an enormous Gryffindor flag; and there, fighting their way towards Hiccup were Astrid, who looked as if she wanted to his him and Ragnar, who for the first time in his life was speechless. They simply beamed, as Hiccup was borne towards the main podium, where Heyral stood waiting with the enormous Dragon Racing Cup.

If only there had been a Dementor around… As a sobbing Eret passed Hiccup the Cup, as he lifted it into the air, Hiccup felt he could have produced the world's best Guardian.


	16. Gothi's Perdiction

Hiccup's euphoria at finally winning the Dragon Racing Cup lasted at least a week. Even the weather seemed to be celebrating; as June approached, the days become cloudless and sultry, and all anybody felt like doing was strolling into the village and flopping down on the grass with several pints of cold yak milk, perhaps playing a casual game of Gobstones or watch Scauldrons and Seashockers swimming dreamily across the surface if the lake.

But they couldn't. The exams were nearly upon them, and instead of lazing around outside, the students were forced to remain inside the mountain, trying to bully their brains into concentrating while enticing wafts of summer air drifted in through the windows. Even Double and Trouble had been spotted working; they were about to take their OVLs (Ordinary Viking Levels). Sven was getting ready to sit his NEVTs (Nastily Exhausting Viking Tests), the highest qualification Berk offered. As Sven hoped to enter the Ministry of Magic, he needed top grades. He was becoming increasingly edgy, and gave very severe punishment to anybody who disturbed the quiet of the common room in the evenings. In fact, the only person who seemed more anxious than Sven was Ragnar.

Hiccup and Astrid had given up asking him how he was managing to attend several classes at once, but they couldn't restrain themselves when they saw the exam timetable he had drawn up for himself. The first column read:

**MONDAY**

9 o'clock, Arithmancy

9 o'clock, Transfiguration

Lunch

1 o'clock, Core Magic

1 o'clock, Ancient Runes

"Ragnar?" Astrid said cautiously, because he was liable to explode when interrupted these days. "Uh—are you sure you've copied down these times right?"

"What?" snapped Ragnar, picking up the exam timetable and examining it. "Yes, of course I have."

"Is there any point asking how you're going to sit two exams at once?" said Hiccup.

"No," said Ragnar shortly. "Has either of you seen my copy of _Numerology and Grammatical?_"

"Oh, yeah, I borrowed it for a bit of bedtime reading," said Astrid, very quietly. Ragnar started shifting heaps of parchment around on his table, looking for the book. Just then, there was a rustle at the window and Sharpshot fluttered through it, a note warped around his leg.

"It's from Gobber," said Hiccup, ripping the note open. "Groundsplitter's appeal—it's set for the sixth."

"That's the day we finish our exams," said Ragnar, still looking everywhere for his Arithmancy book.

"And they're coming up here to do it," said Hiccup, still reading from the letter. "Someone from the Ministry of Magic and—and an executioner."

Ragnar looked up, startled.

"They're bringing the executioner to the appeal! But that sounds as though they've already decided!"

"Yeah, it does," said Hiccup slowly.

"They can't!" Astrid howled. "I've spent _ages_ reading up stuff for him, they can't just ignore it all!"

But Hiccup had a horrible feeling that the Committee for the Disposal of Dangerous Creatures had had its mind made up for it by Spitelout. Snotlout, who had been babbling since Deathwings lightning blast since Gryffindor's triumph in the Dragon Racing final, seemed to regain some of his old swagger over the next few days. From sneering comments Hiccup overhead, Snotlout was certain Groundsplitter was going to be killed, and seemed thoroughly pleased with himself for bringing it about. It was all Hiccup could do to stop himself imitating Astrid and hitting Snotlout in the face on these occasions and he had a feeling that Ragnar was doing the same. And the worst thing of all was that they had no time or opportunity to go and see Gobber, because the strict new security measures had not been lifted, and Hiccup didn't dare retrieve his Invisibility Cape from below the one-eyed Valkyrie.

* * *

Exams week began and an unnatural hush fell over the fort. The third-years emerged from Transfiguration at lunchtime on Monday limp and ashen-faced, comparing results and bemoaning the difficulty of the tasks they had been set, which had included turning a teapot into a tortoise. Ragnar irritated the rest by fussing about how his tortoise had looked more like a turtle, which was the least of everyone else's worries.

"Mine was still had a spout for a tail, what a nightmare…"

"Were the tortoises _supposed_ to be breathing steam?"

"It still had a willow-patterned shell, d'you think that'll count against me?"

Then, after a hasty lunch, it was straight back upstairs for the Core Magic exam. All in all Hiccup thought his Wind Magic was okay, even if the entire class were blown off their chairs. Astrid's Fire Magic was not as controlled as Hiccup and the examination had to be halted until the small fires were put out. Ragnar's Earth Magic proved to be more mastered than anyone else's seconded Core Magic, since he was able to course an earthquake that shook the whole mountain at its basic. After dinner, the students hurried back to their common rooms, not to relax, but to start revising for Forging, Potions and Astronomy.

Forging just proved to be Gobber examining everyone's project and mark on how well their finished product matched with their original design. Astrid project was, unsurprisingly, an axe, she had tried to shape the blade like a Deadly Nadder, but it looked more like a chicken with its feather ruffled. Ragnar had just made a simple gauntlet with a slight for his crystal eye, though it was beautifully made. He was very impressed with Hiccup's prosthetic tailfin, after seeing it in action, and awarded him top marks it also gave him a chance to speak with him.

"Groundsplitter's gettin' a bit depressed," Gobber told him, bending down to pretend to exam the connecting rod. "Bin cooped up too long. But still… we'll know day after tomorrow—one way or the other."

They had Potions that afternoon, which was an unqualified disaster. Try as Hiccup might, he couldn't get his Confusing Concoction to thicken, and Grabbit, standing watching with an air of vindictive pleasure, scribbled something that looked suspiciously like a zero onto his notes before moving away.

Then came Astronomy at midnight, up onto the highest balcony on the mountain; History of Magic on Wednesday morning, in which Hiccup scribbled everything Florean the Chilly had ever told him medieval witch hunts, and wishing he could have one of Florean's choco-nut sundaes with him in the stifling classroom. Wednesday afternoon meant Herbology, outside on the farms under a baking hot sun; then back to the common room once mote, with the backs of their necks sunburnt, thinking longingly of this time next day, when it would be all over.

Their second from last exam, on Thursday morning, was Combat Arts. Johann had compiled the most unusual exam any of them had ever taken; a sort of obstacle course in the arena, where they had to wade across a deep paddling pool containing a Grindylow, squish their way across a patch of marsh, ignoring the misleading directions from a Nokken, cross a series of potholes full of Goblins, then climb into an old trunk and battle with a new Boggart.

"Excellent, Hiccup," Johann muttered, as Hiccup climbed out of the trunk, grinning. "Full marks."

Flushed with his success, Hiccup hung around to watch Astrid and Ragnar. Ragnar did very well until he reached the Goblins, he was never good when it came to hand to hand fighting which was proven when he tried to battle the Goblins. Astrid did everything perfectly until she reached the trunk with the Boggart in it. After a minute inside it, she burst out again, tears in her eyes.

"Astrid!" said Johann, startled. "What's the matter?"

"M-my f-f-family!" said Astrid, still tearing up and pointed at the trunk. "Th-they said I'd disgraced your clan name!"

It took a little while to calm Astrid down. When at last she had regained a grip on herself, she, Hiccup and Ragnar went back to the mountain. Ragnar found Astrid's Boggart quite amusing, but an argument was averted by the sight that met them on top of the steps.

Fudge the Might, sweating slightly in his pinstriped cape, was standing there staring out at the village. He started at the sight of Hiccup.

"Hello, there, Hiccup!" he said. "Just had an exam, I expect? Nearly finished?"

"Yes," said Hiccup. Ragnar and Astrid, not being on speaking terms with the Minister for Magic, hovered awkwardly in the background.

"Lovely day," said Fudge, casting an eye over the lake. "Pity… pity…"

He sighed deeply and looked down at Hiccup.

"I'm here on an unpleasant mission, Hiccup. The Committee for the Disposal of Dangerous Creatures required a witness to the execution of a mad Whispering Death. As I needed to visit Berk to check on the Alvin situation, I was asked to step in?"

"Does that mean the appeal's already happened?" Astrid interrupted, stepping forwards.

"No, no, it's scheduled for this afternoon," said Fudge, looking curiously at Astrid.

"Then you might not have to witness an execution at all!" said Astrid stoutly. "The Whispering Death might get off!"

Before Fudge could answer, two Vikings came through the mountain doors behind him. One was so ancient he appeared to be withering before their very eyes; the other was tall and strapping, with a thin black moustache. Hiccup gathered that they were representatives of the Committee for the Disposal of Dangerous Creatures, because the very old Viking squinted towards Gobber's workshop and said in a feebler voice, "Dear, dear, I'm getting too old for this… two o'clock, isn't it, Fudge?"

Then Hiccup noticed that the black-moustached had a massive double bladed axe was strapped to his back. He then he pulled it out he began to run one broad thumb along the blade. Astrid opened her mouth to say something, but Ragnar nudged him hard in the ribs and jerked his head towards the Great Hall.

"Why'd you stop me?" said Astrid angrily, as they sat down for lunch. "Did you see them? They've even got the axe ready? This isn't justice!"

"Astrid, your dad works for the Ministry. You can't go saying things like that to his boss!" said Ragnar, but he, too, looked very upset. "As long as Gobber keeps his head this time, and argues his case properly, they can't possibly execute Groundsplitter…"

But Hiccup could tell Ragnar didn't really believe what he was saying. All around them, people were talking excitedly as they ate their lunch, happily anticipating the end of exams that afternoon, but Hiccup, Astrid and Ragnar, lost in worry about Gobber and Groundsplitter, didn't join in.

Hiccup and Astrid's last exam was Soothsaying; Ragnar's, Muggle Studies. They walked up the marble staircase together. Ragnar left them on the first floor and Hiccup and Ragnar proceeded all way up to the seventh, where many of their class were sitting on the spiral staircase to Gothi's hut, trying to cram in a bit of last-minute revision.

"She's seeing us all separately," Fishlegs informed them, as they went to sit down next to him. He had his copy of _Unfogging the Future_ open on his lap at the pages devoted to fire-gazing. "Have either of you ever seen _anything_ in a bonfire?" he asked them unhappily.

"Nope," said Astrid, in an offhand voice. She kept checking her watch; Hiccup knew that she was counting down the time until Groundsplitter's appeal started.

The queue of people shortened very slowly. As each person climbed back down the silver ladder, the rest of the class hissed, "What did she ask? Was it Okay?"

But they all refused to say.

"She says the fire sign's told her that, if I tell you, I'll have a horrible accident!" squeaked Fishlegs, as he clambered back down the ladder towards Hiccup and Astrid, who had now reached the landing.

"That's convenient," snorted Astrid. "You know, I'm starting to think Ragnar was right about her" (she jabbed her towards the trapdoor overhead), "she's a right old fraud."

"Yeah," said Hiccup, who wasn't quite convinced and looked at his own watch. It was now two o'clock. "Wish she'd hurry up…"

Agatha came back down the ladder glowing with pride.

"She says I've got all the making of a true Seer," she informed Hiccup and Astrid. "I saw _loads_ of stuff… well, good luck!"

She hurried off down the spiral staircase towards Maria.

"Astrid Hofferson," said the familiar, misty voice from over their heads. Astrid grimaced at Hiccup, and climbed the silver ladder out of sight. Hiccup was now the only person left to be tested. He settled himself on the floor with his back against the wall, listening to a fly buzzing in the sunny window, his mind across the village with Gobber.

Finally, after about twenty minutes, Astrid's small feet reappeared on the ladder.

"How'd it go?" Hiccup asked her, standing up.

"Not good," said Astrid. "Couldn't see a thing, so I made stuff up. Don't think she was convinced, though…"

"Meet you in the common room," Hiccup muttered, as Gothi's voice called, "Hiccup Haddock!"

When he stepped onto the porch a cold wind blew into his face and he could feel the suns raises hitting the back of his neck. Then he saw Gothi sat waiting for him before a bonfire with bright white flames.

"Good day, my dear," she said softly. "If you would kindly gaze into the flames… take your time, now… then tell me what you see within it…"

Hiccup sat crossed legged and stared, stared as hard as he could, willing the flames to show him something other than just plain white flames, but nothing happened.

"Well?" Gothi prompted delicately. "What do you see?"

The heat was overpowering and his nostrils were stinging with smoke that poured out of the flames. He thought of what Astrid had just said, and decided to pretend.

"Uh—," said Hiccup, "a dark shape…um…"

"What does it resemble?" whispered Gothi. "Think, now…"

Hiccup cast his mind around and it landed on Groundsplitter.

"A Whispering Death," he said firmly.

"Indeed!" whispered Gothi, scribbling on the parchment perched upon her knees. "My boy, you may well be seeing the outcome of poor Gobber's trouble with the Ministry of Magic! Look closer… does the poor dragon appear to… have its head?"

"Yes," said Hiccup firmly.

"Really," said Gothi sounding surprised. "Tell me do you see anything else?"

"No! It looks fine, it's—flying away…"

Gothi raised an eyebrow.

"Well, dear, we'll just have to wait and see if your prediction comes true," said Gothi.

Relieved, Hiccup got up, picked up his satchel and turned to go, but then a loud, harsh voice spoke behind him.

"_It will happen tonight._"

Hiccup wheeled around. Gothi had gone rigid, her eyes were unfocused and smoke was pouring out of her mouth.

"S-sorry?" said Hiccup.

But Gothi didn't seem to hear him. Her eyes started to roll. Hiccup stood there in a panic. The white flames were dancing furiously and Gothi looked as if she was having a seizure. He hesitated, thinking of running to the healing centre—and then Gothi spoke again, in the same harsh voice, quite unlike her own:

"_The Dragon Lord lies alone and friendless, abandoned by his followers. His servant has been chained these twelve years. Tonight, before midnight, the servant will break free and set out to rejoin his master. The Dragon Lord will rise again with his servant's aid, greater and more terrible than ever before. Tonight… before midnight… the servant… will set out to rejoin… his master…_"

Gothi head fell forwards onto her chest. She made a grunting sort of noise. Then, quite suddenly, her head snapped up again.

"I'm so sorry, dear boy," she said dreamily, "The heat of the day, even up on the mountain peak… I drifted off for a moment…"

Hiccup stood there, still staring. Gothi looked at him curiously then her mood changed to dread.

"Oh no," she said closing her eyes. "It happened again."

"What?"

"You just heard me speak a prediction, didn't you dear?" she asked. Hiccup could only nod. "Then tell me what I said."

Hiccup began explaining in great detail on what happened over the past few minutes. Goith listened with great interest and once he was finished Gothi looked concerned.

"The Dragon Lord raising again, not a pleasing thought," said Gothi rubbing her chin. "And you say that his servant shall return to him tonight at midnight?"

"Yes," said Hiccup.

"Hmm, the last time I had a prediction things didn't go well," said Gothi. Then she realised that Hiccup was with her. "I must inform the Headmaster at once. As for you… I suggest that you return to your common room and tell no one of this including your friends."

Hiccup nodded and was about to climb down the ladder, but stopped and looked at Gothi one last time.

"Ma'am what do you make of this?" he asked.

"To be honest… I'm not sure," Gothi said bluntly. "But I have a feeling that you, my boy, will face a trial that could start a chain of events."

With that happy note, Hiccup climbed down the ladder and within five minutes he had dashed past the security trolls outside the Gryffindor Common Room. People were striding past him in the opposite direction, laughing and joking, heading for the village and a bit of a long-awaited freedom; by the time he had reached the portrait hole and entered the common room, it was almost deserted. Over in a corner, however, sat Astrid and Ragnar and both were looking miserable.

"What's the matter?" Hiccup asked.

"Groundsplitter lost," said Astrid weakly. "Gobber's just sent this."

Gobber's note read:

_Lost appeal. They've going to execute at sunset. Nothing you can do. Don't come down. I don't want you to see it._

_Gobber_

"We've got to go," said Hiccup at once. "He can't just sit there on his own, waiting for the executioner!"

"Sunset, though," said Astrid, who was staring out of the window in a glaze sort of way. "We'd never be allowed… specially you, Hiccup…"

Hiccup sank his head into his hands, thinking.

"If we only had the Invisibility Cape…"

"Where is it?" said Ragnar.

Hiccup told him about leaving it in the passageway under the one-eyed Valkyrie.

"…if Grabbit sees me anywhere near there again, I'm in serious trouble," he finished.

"That's true," said Ragnar, getting to his feet. "If he sees _you_…how do you open the Valkyrie's hump again?"

"You—you tap it and say, 'Endeavour'," said Hiccup "But—"

Ragnar didn't wait for the rest of his sentence; he strode across the room, pushed the Fat Valkyrie's portrait open and vanished from sight.

"He hasn't gone to get it?" Astrid said, staring after him.

He had. Ragnar returned a quarter of an hour later with the silvery Cape folded carefully under his shirt.

"Rag, I don't know what's got into you lately!" said Astrid, astounded. "First you walked out of Goith and now you went to get the Cape—"

Ragnar just shrugged.

* * *

They went down to dinner with everybody else, but did not return to the Gryffindor Common Room afterwards. Hiccup had the Cape hidden down the front of his shirt; he had to keep his arms folded to hide the lump. They skulked in an empty chamber off the Entrance Hall, listening, until they were sure it was deserted. They heard a last pair of people hurrying across the hall, and a door slamming. Ragnar poked his head around the door.

"Okay," he whispered, "no one there—Cape on—"

Walking very close together so that nobody would see them, they crossed the Hall on tiptoe beneath the Cape, walked through the Great Hall and then walked down the stone front steps into the village. The sun was already sinking behind the Raven's Point, gilding the top branches of the trees.

They reached Gobber's workshop and knocked. He was a minute in answering, and when he did, he looked all around for his visitor.

"It's us," Hiccup hissed. "We're wearing the Invisibility Cape. Let us in and we can take it off."

"Yeh shouldn've come!" Gobber whispered, but he stood back, and they stepped inside. Gobber then joined them as Hiccup pulled off the Cape.

"Do you really think we'd stay away," said Hiccup.

"Point taken," said Gobber. "Just like your father, he could never abandon a free in need." He then headed into the kitchen. "Do ya wan' some coffee?"

"Where's Groundsplitter, Gobber?" said Ragnar hesitantly.

"I—I took him outside," said Gobber, pulling out four mugs of coffee. "He's tethered outback, Grump's with him, tryin' to keep him company. Thought he oughta see the tress an'—an' smell fresh air—before—"

Gobber then slammed his hand on the table and coffee was spilt everywhere and the mugs shattered all over the floor.

"I'll do it, Gobber," said Ragnar quickly, hurrying over and starting to clean up the mess.

"Isn't there anything anyone can do, Gobber?" Hiccup asked fiercely, sitting down next to him. "Heyral—"

"He's tried," said Gobber. "He's got no power ter overrule the Committee. He told 'em Groundsplitter's all right, but they're scared… yeh know what Spitelout's like… threatened 'em, I expect… an' the executioner, Cutthroat the Bloody, he's an old pal o' Spitelout's… but it'll be quick an' clean… an' I'll be beside him…"

Gobber swallowed. His eyes were darting all over the workshop, as though looking for some shred of hope or comfort.

"Heyral's gonna come down while it—while it happens. Wrote me this mornin'. Said he wants ter—ter be with me. Great man, Heyral…"

We'll stay with you, too, Gobber," said Ragnar as he placed knew coffee mugs on the table.

"Yeh're ter go back up ter the mountain. I told yeh, I don' wan' yeh watchin'. An' yeh shouldn' be down here anyway… if Fudge an' Heyral catch yeh out without permission, Hiccup, yeh'll be in big trouble."

Hiccup didn't like it, but he'd had to agree with Gobber, but there was one thing he wanted to ask and it's been something that's been eating away at him for months.

"Gobber I know this isn't the best time to ask this, but why didn't you tell me the truth about Alvin the Treacherous being the reason my parents are dead and the fact he was Ragnar's father?" Hiccup asked.

Gobber looked at him stunned and looked at Hiccup and Ragnar and sighed. "I thought I'd be a matter of time before the two of ya knew. Ya see the Alvin I knew would die before betraying his friends and he loved yeh mother, Rag, but something changed in him and the Alvin knew died," he said. "Everyone agreed not to tell you and Ragnar the truth until you were old enough to handle it or you might have done something stupid."

Before Hiccup could ask for more detail, Ragnar, who was holding a milk jar at the time, gasped.

"Astrid! I—I don't believe it—it's _Scabbers_!"

Astrid stared at him.

"What are you talking about?"

Ragnar then lifted the milk jar and turned it upside-down. With a frantic squeak, and much scrambling to get back inside, Scabbers the rat same sliding out onto the table.

"Scabbers!" said Astrid blankly. "Scabbers what are you doing here?"

She geaabed the struggling rat and held him up to the light Scabbers looked dreadful. He was thinner than ever, large tufts of hair had fallen out leaving wide bald patches, and he writhed in Astrid's hands as though desperate to free himself.

"It's okay, Scabbers!" said Astrid. "No Terrible Terrors! There's nothing here to hurt you!"

Gobber looked at Scabbers with great curiosity, but before he could say anything, Hiccup felt a hard stone hit the back of his head painfully.

"Ow!" he cried and when he looked out of the window to who threw the stone he saw see a group of men walking down the mountain steps. "Gobber, they're here."

He was right. Heyral, his silver beard gleaming in the dying sun, was in front. Next to him trotted Fudge the Might. Behind them came the feeble old Committee member and the executioner, Cutthroat the Bloody.

"Yeh gotta go," said Gobber. Every inch of him was trembling. "They mustn' find yeh here… go on, now…"

Astird held Scabbers tightly in her hands and Ragnar picked up the Cape.

"I'll let yeh out the back way," said Gobber.

They followed him to his kitchen, where a door stood. Hiccup felt strangely unreal, and even more so when he saw Groundsplitter, with a sleeping Grump next to him, he was tethered by a large wood stake just a few yards away from Gobber's workshop. He turned his head from side to side nervously.

"Get goin'," Gobber said.

But they didn't move.

"Gobber, we can't—"

"We'll tell them what really happened—"

"They can't kill him—"

"Go!" said Gobber fiercely. "It's bad enough without you lot in trouble an' all!"

They had no choice. As Ragnar threw the Cape over Hiccup and Astrid, they heard voices at the front of the workshop. Gobber looked at the place where they had just vanished from sight.

"Go quick," he said hoarsely. "Don't listen…"

And he strode back into his workshop as someone knocked.

Slowly, in a kind of horrible trance, Hiccup, Astrid and Ragnar set off silently around Gobber's workshop. As they reached the other side, they saw the four men entre inside.

"Please, let's hurry," Astrid whispered. "I can't stand it, I can't bear it…"

They started up through the village towards the mountain. The sun was sinking fast now; the sky had turned to a clear, purple-tinged grey, but to the west there was a ruby-red glow.

Astrid stopped dead.

"Come on, Astrid," Ragnar began.

"It's Scabbers—he won't—stay put—"

Astrid bent over, trying to keep Scabbers in her hands, but the rat was going berserk; squeaking madly, twisting and flailing, trying to sink his teeth into Astrid's hand.

"Scabbers, it's me, Astrid," Astrid hissed.

They then heard men's voices.

"Oh, for the love of Thor, Astrid, move, they're going to do it!" Ragnar breathed.

"Okay—Scabbers, stay _put_—"

They walked forwards; Hiccup, like Ragnar, was trying not to listen to the rumble of voices behind them. Astrid stopped again.

"I can't hold him—Scabbers, shut up—"

She stopped, all three of them saw Cutthroat walking to the side of Gobber's workshop. Their view of Groundsplitter was blocked by houses, but they saw Gobber and Heyral leading Grump inside the workshop and Fudge and Committee member watching as Cutthroat raised his axe, then he swung it and they heard the thud from where they were.

Astrid buried her head into Hiccup's should and began to cry.

"They did it!" she sobbed to Hiccup. "I d-don't believe it—they did it!"


	17. Terrible Terror, Rat and Dog

Hiccup's mind had gone blank with shock. The three of them stood transfixed with horror under the Invisibility Cape. The very last rays of the setting sun were casting a bloody light over the long-shadowed village. Astrid was still crying into his shoulder and he placed an arm around her to comfort her.

"How—could—they?" she choked. "How _could_ they?"

"Come one," said Ragnar, who face was solemn.

They set off back towards the mountain, walking slowly to keep themselves hidden under the Cape. Light was fading fast now. By the time they reached the stone steps, darkness was settling like a spell around them.

"Scabbers, keep still," Astrid hissed, clamping her hand over the wiggling rat. "What's the matter with you? Stay still—OUCH! He but me!"

"Astrid, be quiet!" Ragnar whispered urgently. "Fudge'll be out here in a minute—"

"He won't—stay—still—"

Scabbers was plainly terrified. He was writhing with all his might, trying to break free of Astrid's grip.

"What's the _matter_ with him?"

But Hiccup had just seen—slinking towards them, her body low to the ground, wide yellow eyes glinting eerily in the darkness—Amber. Whether she could see them, or was following the sound of Scabber's squeaks, Hiccup couldn't tell.

"Amber!" Ragnar moaned. "No, go away, Amber! Go away!"

But the Terrible Terror was getting nearer—

"Scabbers—NO!"

Too late—the rat had slipped between Astrid's clutching fingers, hit the ground and scampered away. In one bound, Amber sprang after him, and before Hiccup or Ragnar could stop her, Astrid had thrown the Invisibility Cape off herself and pelted away into the darkness.

"_Astrid!_" Hiccup moaned.

He and Ragnar looked at each other, then followed at a sprint; it was impossible to rub full out under the Cape; they pulled it off and it streamed behind them like a banner as they hurtled after Astrid; they could hear her feet thundering along ahead, and her shouts at Amber.

"Get away from him—get away—Scabbers, come _here_—"

There was a loud thud.

"_Gotcha!_ Get off, you blasted lizard—"

Hiccup and Ragnar almost fell over Astrid; they skidded to a stop right in front of her. She was sprawled on the ground, but Scabbers was in her hands; she had a firm grip on him this time.

"Astrid—come on—back under the Cape—" Hiccup panted. "Heyral—the Minister—they'll be coming back out in a minute—"

But before they could cover themselves again, before they could even catch their breath, they heard the soft pounding of gigantic paws. Something was bounding towards them out of the dark—an enormous, pale-eyes, jet-black dog.

Hiccup reached for his sword, but too late—the dog had made an enormous leap and its front paws hit him on the chest. He keeled over backwards in a whirl of hair; he felt its hot breath, saw inch-long teeth—

But the force of its leap had carried it too far; it rolled off him; dazed, feeling as though his ribs were broken, Hiccup tried to stand up; he could hear it growling as it skidded around for a new attack.

Astrid was on her feet. As the dog sprang back towards them, he pushed Hiccup aside; the dog's jaws fastened instead around Astrid's leg. Hiccup lunged at it and seized a handful of the brute's hair, but it was dragging Astrid away as easily as if she were a rag-doll—

Then, out of nowhere, something hit Hiccup so hard across the face he was knocked off his feet again. He heard Ragnar yelling with pain and fell, too. Hiccup raised his hand out, blinking blood out of his eyes.

Then flames appeared in his palm and showed him a trunk of a thick tree; they had chased Scabbers into the shadow of the Whomping Willow and its branched were creaking as though in a high wind, whipping backwards and forwards to stop them going nearer.

And there, at the base of the trunk, was the dog, dragging Astrid backwards into a large gap in the roots—Astrid was fighting furiously, hitting the dog with the base of her axe, but her head and torso were slipping out of sight—

"Astrid!" Hiccup shouted, trying to follow, but a heavy branch whipped lethally through the air and he was forced backwards again.

When he looked up, he saw that Astrid was gone.

"Hiccup—we've got to go for help—" Ragnar panted, darting here and there, trying to find a way through the vicious, swishing branches, but he couldn't get an inch nearer to the tree-roots without being in range of the tree's blows.

"We don't have time!" Hiccup yelled, as he dodged one of the branches.

Then suddenly Amber flew past them. She dodged the battering branches with such elegance that it looked as if she was dancing. She then placed her claw upon a knot on the trunk.

Abruptly, as though the tree had been turned to marble, it stopped moving. Not a leaf twitched or shook.

"Amber!" Ragnar gasped uncertainly. He then looked at Hiccup speechless. "How did she know—?"

"She's friends with that dog," said Hiccup grimly. "I've seen them together. Come on—and get ready for anything—"

They covered the distance to the trunk in seconds, but before they had reached the gap in the roots, Amber had slid into it. Hiccup went next; he crawled forwards, headfirst, and slid down an earth slope to the bottom of a very low tunnel. Amber was a little way along, her eyes flashing in the light of the flames in Hiccup's hand. Seconds later, Ragnar slithered down beside him, with his knew gauntlet around his right hand and his crystal eye imbedded in it.

"Where's Astrid?" he whispered.

"This way," said Hiccup, setting off, bent-backed, after Amber.

"Where does this tunnel come out?" Ragnar asked.

"I don't know… it's marked on the Marauder's Map but Double and Trouble said no one's ever got into it. It goes off the edge of the map, but it looked like it ends up in Berksmeade," said Hiccup. "But there one thing I do know… it's that Gothi was right about confronting a huge, black dog."

"So, when she saw it she thought it was connected to the Signpost of Valhalla," said Ragnar.

"Yeah… but obviously that's not the case," said Hiccup. Then he thought about Gothi's prediction. "Guess she's not a fraud after all."

"No, it would seem not," Ragnar agreed. "But what would that dog want with Astrid if Gothi said it that dog was going to be your first trail?"

"I don't know," said Hiccup worriedly, "but I don't want to wait and find out."

They moved as fast as they could, bent almost double; ahead of them, Amber's tail bobbed in and out of view. On and on went the passage; it felt at least as long as the one to Honeydukes. All Hiccup could think of was Astrid, and what the enormous dog might be doing to her… he was drawing breath in sharp, painful gasps, running at a crouch…

And then the tunnel began to rise; moments later it twisted, and Amber had gone. Instead, Hiccup could see a patch of dim light through a small opening.

He and Ragnar paused, gasping for breath, edging forwards. Hiccup had pulled his sword out and for some reason Ragnar was clutching his gauntlet tightly, Hiccup then raised the flames in his hand to see what lay beyond.

It was a room, a very disordered, dusty room. Paper was peeling from the walls; there were stains all over the floor; every piece of furniture was broken as though somebody had smashed it. The windows were all boarded-up.

Hiccup glanced at Ragnar, who nodded.

Hiccup pulled himself out of the hole, staring around. The room was deserted, but a door to their right stood open, leading to a shadowy hallway. Ragnar suddenly grabbed Hiccup's arm. His wide eyes were travelling around the boarded windows.

"Hiccup," she whispered. "I think we're in the Shrieking Shack."

Hiccup looked around. His eyes feel on a wooden chair near them. Large chunks had been torn out of it; one of the legs had been ripped off entirely.

"Ghosts didn't do that," he said slowly.

At that moment, there was creak overhead. Something had moved upstairs. Both of them looked up at the ceiling. Ragnar's had realised his arm, but still looked nervous.

Quietly as they could, they crept out into the hall and up the crumbling staircase. Everything was covered in a thick layer of dust except the floor, where a wide, shiny stripe had been made by something being dragged upstairs.

They reached the dark landing.

Hiccup this extinguish the flames in his hand. Only one door was open. As they crept towards it, they heard movement from behind it; a low moan, and then a deep, loud growl. They exchanged a last look, a last nod.

Hiccup gripped his sword tightly and Ragnar raised his gauntlet and suddenly he created a sword made of light. Hiccup then realised that the sword was made from aura, but knew this wasn't the best time to ask how he did it.

On a magnificent four-poster bed with dusty hangings laid Amber, curled up and looking at them. On the floor beside her, clutching her leg, which was covered in blood and stuck at a strange angle, was Astrid.

Astrid and Ragnar dashed across to him.

"Astrid—are you okay?"

"Where's the dog?"

"Not a dog," Astrid moaned. Her teeth were gritted with pain. "Hiccup, get out of here, it's a trap—"

"What—"

"_He's the dog… he's an Animagus…_"

Astrid was staring over Hiccup's shoulder. Hiccup wheeled around. With a snap, the man in the shadows closed the door behind them.

A mass of filthy hair hung to his elbows. If eyes hadn't been shining out of the deep, dark sockets, he might have been a corpse. The waxy skin was stretched so tightly over the bones of his face, it looked like a skull. His yellow teeth were bared in a grin. It was Alvin the Treacherous, holding Astrid's axe in his gorilla sized hand.

"I thought you'd come and help your friend," he said hoarsely. His voice sounded as though he had long lost the habit of using it. "Your father would have done the same for me. And Ragnar look at you, you were only a baby last time I saw you and I'm not surprised that you made friends with Hiccup. Brave of you both, not to run for a teacher, I'm grateful… it will make everything much easier…"

The taunt about his father and Ragnar rang in Hiccup's ears as though Alvin had bellowed it. A boiling hate erupted in Hiccup's chest, leaving no place for fear. For the first time in his life, he wanted to use his sword, not to defend himself, but to attack… to kill. Without knowing what he was doing, he started forwards, holding his sword tightly in his hand, but there was a sudden movement on either side of him and two pairs of hands grabbed him and held him back. "No, Hiccup!" Ragnar said looking quiet firm; Astrid, however, spoke to Alvin.

"If you want to kill Hiccup, you'll have to kill us too!" she said fiercely, though the effort of standing up had drained her of still more colour, and she swayed slightly as she spoke.

Something flickered in Alvin's shadowed eyes.

"Lie down," he said quietly to Astrid. "You will damage that leg even more."

"Didn't you hear me?" Astrid said furiously, still clinging painfully onto Hiccup to stay upright. "You'll have to kill all three us!"

"My dear, you've already prove to me how tough you are," said Alvin pointing at a livid bruise that was rising around his left eye and his bleeding nose. "And the last thing I wanted is to kill my own son." Then he grinned wider. "Besides only one will die tonight."

"Why's that?" Hiccup spat, trying to wrench himself free of Astrid and Ragnar. "Didn't care last time, did you? Didn't mind slaughtering all those Muggles to get at Savage… What's the matter, gone soft in Azkaban?"

"Hiccup!" said Ragnar firmly. "Let's not anger the murders psychopath!"

"HE KILLED MY MUM AND DAD!" Hiccup roared, and with a huge effort he broke free of Ragnar and Astrid's restraint and lunged forwards—

Hiccup didn't care that he was skinny and thirteen, he didn't care that Alvin was a tall, fully grown man. All he wanted was him dead and so he sword and slashed it at Alvin, who blocked it with Astrid's axe. Hiccup had to admit that even though he hadn't raised a weapon for twelve years, he was good with a blade. He kept on blocking Hiccup's attacks. For some reason he didn't seem to want to fight back, but this mattered little to Hiccup he just wanted to kill his parents murder.

Astrid's axe then was set a light, now covered in crimson flames, and Alvin swung it at him. Hiccup dodged it and set a powerful gust of wind straight into his chest slamming him into the wall—

Both Astrid and Ragnar stared at the sight as the two pull in front of them fought, to what looked like to the death. Hiccup and Alvin's weapons clashed and they both began to push down on them. Alvin, meaning bigger and stronger than Hiccup had the advantage.

"No," he hissed. "I've waited too long—"

"Then you'll have to wait a lot longer!" Hiccup yelled and kicked him in the stomach and then did a leg sweep knocking Alvin to the floor. He was about to deal the final blow, but—

"Argh!"

Amber had joined the fray, her fangs imbedded into Hiccup's arm, making him drop his sword; Hiccup threw her off, but Amber now darted towards Hiccup's wand—

"NO YOU DON'T" roared Hiccup, and he aimed a kick at Amber that made the Terrible Terror leap aside; Hiccup snatched up his sword and turned—

"Get out of the way!" he shouted at Astrid and Ragnar.

They didn't need telling twice. After picking up Astrid's axe and handed it to her, he just stared in shook. Astrid crawled to the four-poster and collapsed onto, panting, her white face now tinged with green, both hands clutching her broken leg.

Alvin was sprawled at the bottom of the wall. His chest, only large but now thin, rose and fell rapidly as he watched Hiccup walking slowly nearer, his sword pointing straight at Alvin's throat.

"Going to kill me, Hiccup?" he whispered.

Hiccup topped right above him, his sword still pointing at Alvin's throat, looking down at him.

"You killed my parents," said Hiccup, his voice shaking slightly, but his sword hand quite steady.

Alvin stared up at him out of those sunken eyes.

"I don't deny my actions," he said, very quietly. "But if you knew the whole story—"

"The whole story?" Hiccup repeated, a furious pounding in his ear. "You sold them to Drago Bludvist, that's all I need to know!"

"You've got to listen to me," Alvin said, and there was a note of urgency in his voice now. "You'll regret it if you don't… you don't understand…"

"I understand a lot better than you think," said Hiccup, and his voice shook more than ever. "You never heard her, did you? My mum… trying to stop Drago killing me… and you did that… you did it…"

Before either of them could say, something orange streaked past Hiccup; Amber leapt in-between Alvin and Hiccup's sword. Alvin blinked and looked down at the Terrible Terror.

"Get off," he murmured, trying to push Amber away.

But Amber sank her claws into the helm of Alvin shirt and wouldn't shift. He turned her beautiful face to Hiccup, and looked up at her with those great yellow eyes. To his right, Ragnar was looking stunned.

Hiccup stared down at Alvin and Amber, his grip tightening on his sword. So what if he had to kill the Terrible Terror? It was in league with Alvin… if it was prepared to die, trying to protect Alvin, that wasn't Hiccup business… if Alvin wanted to save it, that only proved he cared more for Amber than Hiccup's parents…

Hiccup raised the sword. Now was the moment to do it. Now was the moment to avenge his mother and father. He was going to kill Alvin. This was his chance…

"Hiccup!" Astrid cried, still looking slightly green. "Is this really what you want?"

Hiccup couldn't believe her; this was exactly what he wanted. But his arm didn't seem to be listening to his head.

While he was busy trying to figure out on what to do, a new sound could be heard. Muffled footsteps were echoing up though the floor—someone was moving downstairs.

"WE'RE UP HERE!" Ragnar yelled suddenly. "WE'RE UP HERE—ALVIN THE TREACHEROUS—QUICK!"

Alvin made a startled movement that almost dislodged Amber; Hiccup gripped his sword—_Do it now_! Said a voice in his head—but the still his arm wouldn't obey.

The door of the room burst open in a shower of bright slivery right and Hiccup wheeled around as Johann came hurtling into the room, his face bloodless, his dagger raised and ready. His eyes flickered over Astrid, lying on the floor, over Ragnar, standing against the wall, to Hiccup, standing there with his sword covering Alvin, and then to Alvin himself, crumpled and bleeding at Hiccup's feet.

Before Hiccup knew it, Johann fired a slivery fireball at Hiccup, disarming his sword and then a gust of wind pulled his sword, Astrid's axe and Ragnar gauntlet behind him, hovering in mid-air. Johann moved into the room, staring at Alvin, who still had Amber lying protectively on the helm of his shirt.

"Well, do you look a sorry state," he said to Alvin.

"So would you if you had to tangle with that blond and Stoick and Valka's son," Alvin shrugged.

Hiccup stood there, feeling suddenly empty. He hadn't done it. His nerve had failed him. Alvin was going to be handed back to the Dementors.

"Where is he, Alvin?" said Johann.

Hiccup looked quickly at Johann. He didn't understand what Johann meant. Who was Johann talking about? He turned to look at Alvin again.

Alvin's face was quite expressionless. For a few seconds, he didn't move at all. Then, very slowly, he raised his empty hand, and pointed straight at Astrid. Mystified, Hiccup glanced around at Astrid, who looked bewildered.

"But then…" Johann muttered, staring at Alvin so intently it seemed he was trying to read his mind, "…why hasn't he shown himself before now? Unless—" Johann's eyes suddenly widened, as though he was seeing something beyond Alvin, something none of the rest could see, "—unless _he_ was the one… unless you switched… without telling me?"

Very slowly, his sunken gaze never leaving Johann's face, Alvin nodded.

"Sir," Hiccup interrupted loudly, "what's going—?"

But he never finished the question, because what he saw made his voice die in his throat. Johann was lowering his dagger. Next moment, he walked to Alvin's side, seized his hand, pulled him to his feet so that Amber fell to the floor, and embraced Alvin like a brother.

Hiccup felt as though the bottom had dropped out of his stomach.

"I DON'T BELIEVE IT!" Ragnar screamed in rage.

Johann let go of Alvin and turned to him. He glared at Johann clenching his fists. "You—you—"

"Ragnar—"

"—you and him!"

"Ragnar, calm down—"

"I was fool!" Ragnar said in disbelief. "I've been covering up for you—"

Hiccup could feel himself shaking, not with fear, but with a fresh wave of fury.

"I trusted you," he shouted at Johann, his voice wavering out of control, "and all the time you've been his friend!"

"You're wrong," said Johann. "I haven't been Alvin's friend for twelve years, but I am now… let me explain…"

"NO!" Ragnar yelled, "Hiccup don't trust him, he's been helping Alvin get into the mountain, he wanted you dear too—_he's_ a _werewolf_!"

There was ringing silence. Everyone's eyes were now on Johann, who looked remarkably calm, though rather pale.

"Not at all up to your usual standard, Ragnar," he said. "Only one out three, I'm afraid. I have not been helping Alvin get into the mountain and I certainly don't want Hiccup dead…" An odd shiver passed over his face. "But I won't dent that I am a werewolf. How long have you known?"

"Ages," Ragnar growled. "Since I did Grabbit's essay…"

"He'll be delighted," said Johann coolly. "He sent that essay hoping someone would realise what my symptoms meant. Did you check the lunar chart and realised that I was always ill at the full moon? Was it that you leant I use Moonlight Core Magic? Or did you realise that the Boggart changed into the moon when it saw me?"

"All three," said Ragnar not lowering his gaze.

Johann forced a laugh.

"You're the cleverest Viking of your age I've ever met, Ragnar," he said and looked at Alvin with the corner of his eye. "No doubt you get it from your mother's side."

"Hey," said Alvin. Johann then raised an eyebrow. "Okay, fair point."

"I'm not," Ragnar growled. "If I'd been a bit cleaver, I'd have told everyone what you are!"

"But they already know," said Johann. "At least, the staff do."

"Heyral hired you when he knew you were a werewolf?" Astrid gasped. "Is he crazy?"

"Some of the staff thought so," said Johann. "He had to work very hard to convince certain teachers that I'm trustworthy—"

"AND HE WAS WRONG!" Hiccup yelled. "YOU'VE BEEN HELPING HIM ALL THE TIME!" He was pointing at Alvin, who had crossed to the four-poster bed and sunk onto it, his face hidden in one shaking hand. Amber flew up beside him and landed onto his lap. Astrid edged away from both of them, dragging her leg.

"I have _not_ been helping Alvin," said Johann. "If you'll give me chance, I'll explain. Look—"

With a flick of his wrist the weapons behind him returned to their owners; Hiccup caught his sword, stunned.

"There," said Johann, placing his dagger back into his belt. "You're armed, we're not. Now will you listen?"

Hiccup didn't know what to think. Was it a trick?

"If you haven't been helping him," he said, with a furious glance at Alvin, "how did you know he was here?"

"The map," said Johann. "The Marauder's Map. I was in my house examining it—"

"You know how to work it?" Hiccup said suspiciously.

"Of course I know how to work it," said Johann, waving his hand impatiently. "I helped write it. I'm Moony—that was my friends' nickname for me at the academy."

"You _wrote_—?"

"The important thing is, I was watching it carefully this evening, because I had an idea that you, Astrid and Ragnar might try and sneak out of the mountain to visit Gobber before Groundsplitter was executed."

Alvin then looked up. "What?! Groundsplitter, executed!" he gasped.

Johann looked at Alvin sympathetic. "I'm sorry Alvin, but Groundsplitter is gone," he said closing his eyes. "Gobber tried to protect him and these three tried as well, but it was all for not."

Alvin looked as if he was punched in the gut, if he hadn't killed his parents, Hiccup would have felt sorry for him.

Johann then looked back at Hiccup. "You might have been wearing your father's old cape, Hiccup—"

"How d'you know about the Cape?"

"The number of times I saw Stoick disappearing under it…" said Johann, waving an impatient hand again. "The point is, even if you're wearing an Invisibility Cape you show up on the Marauder's Map. I watched you cross the village and enter Gobber's workshop. Twenty minutes later, you left Gobber, and set off back towards the mountain. But you were now accompanied by somebody else."

"What?" said Hiccup. "No, we weren't!"

"I couldn't believe my eyes," said Johann, still pacing, and ignoring Hiccup's interruption. "I thought the map must be malfunctioning. How could he be with you?"

"No one was with us!" said Hiccup.

"And then I saw another dot, moving fast towards you, labelled Alvin the Trusting… even Alvin's old title showing was proof… I saw him collide with you, I watched as he pulled two of you into the Whomping Willow—"

"One of us!" Astrid said angrily.

"No, Astrid," said Johann. "Two of you."

He eyes moving over Astrid.

"Do you think I could have a look at the rat?" he said evenly.

"What?" said Astrid. "What's Scabbers got to do with it?"

"Everything," said Johann. "Could I see him, please?"

Astrid hesitated, then put a looked down at Scabbers. Scabber was still trying to wiggle free from her grip, but she had a firm grip on his bald tail. Amber stood up on Alvin's lap and stared at the rat.

Johann moved closer to Astrid. He seemed to be holding his breath as he gazed intently at Scabbers.

"What?" Astrid said again, holding Scabbers close to her, looking confused. "What's my rat got to do with anything?"

"That's not a rat," croaked Alvin suddenly.

"What d'you mean—of course he's a rat—"

"No, he's not," said Johann quietly. "He's a Viking."

"An Animagus," said Alvin, "by the name of Savage the Snivelling."


	18. The Five Marauders

It took a few seconds for the absurdity of this statement to sink in. Then Astrid voiced what Hiccup was thinking.

"You're both crazy."

"Impossible!" said Ragnar flatly.

"Savage the Snivelling's dead!" said Hiccup. "He killed him twelve years ago!"

He pointed at Alvin, whose face twitched convulsively.

"I mean to," he growled, his yellow teeth bared, "but cowardly Savage got the better of me… we should rename him Savage the Sneaky if he wasn't so spineless… but he's not getting away this time!"

And Amber was thrown to the floor as Alvin lunged at Scabbers; Astrid yelled with pain as Alvin's weight fell on her broken leg.

"Alvin, NO!" Johann yelled, launching himself forwards and dragging Alvin away from Astrid again, which was quite a feat considering that Alvin was taller and larger than him, "WAIT! You can't do it just like that—they need to understand—we've got to explain—"

"We can explain afterwards!" snarled Alvin, trying to throw Johann off, one hand still clawing the air as it tried to reach Scabbers, who was squealing like a piglet, scratching Astrid's face and neck as he tried to escape.

"They've—got—a—right—to—know—everything!" Johann panted, still trying to restrain Alvin. "Astrid's kept him as a pet! There are parts of it even I don't understand! And Hiccup and Ragnar—you owe they the truth, Alvin!"

Alvin stopped struggling, though his hollowed eyes were still fixed on Scabbers, who was clamping tightly under Astrid's bitten, scratched and bleeding hands.

"All right, then," Alvin said, without taking his eyes off the rat, "Tell them whatever you like. But make it quick, Johann. I want to commit the murder I was imprisoned for…"

"You're mad, both of you," said Astrid shakily, looking around at Hiccup and Ragnar for support. "I've had enough of this. I'm off."

She tried to heave herself up on her good leg, but Johann pulled out his dagger again, pointing it at Scabbers.

"You're going to hear me out, Astrid, he said quietly. "Just keep a tight hold on Savage while you listen."

"HE'S NOT SAVAGE, HE'S SCABBERS!" Astrid yelled, trying to calm the rat down, but Scabber was squirming too hard; Astrid swayed and overbalanced, and Hiccup caught her and pushed her back down to the bed. Then, ignoring Alvin, Hiccup turned to Johann.

"There were witnesses who saw Savage die," he said. "A whole street full of them…"

"They didn't see what they thought they saw!" said Alvin savagely, still watching Scabbers struggling in Astrid's hands. "Never count someone dead until you see their body right in front of you… and I never thought I'd get stung by my own metaphor."

"Quite right," said Johann, nodding. "Everyone thought Alvin. I believed it myself—until I saw the map tonight. Because the Marauder's Map never lies… Savage's alive. Astrid's holding him, Hiccup."

Hiccup looked down at Astrid, and as their eyes met they agreed, silently: Alvin and Johann were both out of their minds. Their story made no sense whatsoever. How could Scabbers be Savage the Snivelling? Azkaban must have unhinged Alvin after all—but why was Johann playing along with him?

Then Ragnar spoke, he looked as if he was in deep thought and spoke in a calm voice, as though he thought that Johann and Alvin were sane.

"Sir… how can Scabbers be Savage… it just can't be possible, you know it can't…"

"Why can't it be true?" Johann said calmly, as though they were in class and Ragnar had simply spotted a problem in an experiment with Grindylows.

"Because people would know if Savage the Snivelling had been Animagus. We did Animagi in class with Phlegma the Fierce. And I looked them up when I did my homework—the Ministry keeps tabs on Viking and Valkyries who can become animals; there's a register showing what animal they become, and their marking and things… and I went and looked Phlegma the Fierce up on the register, and there have only been seven Animagi this century, and Savage's name wasn't on the list—"

Hiccup barely had time to marvel inwardly at the effort Ragnar put into his homework, when Johann and Alvin started to laugh.

"Right again, Ragnar" said Johann.

"I'll give you credit on doing your homework, son," said Alvin. Ragnar didn't look happy about Alvin calling him son. "But does it mention me on the list?"

"Uh, no," Ragnar admitted.

"You see, Ragnar, the Ministry never knew that there used to be three unregistered Animagi running around Berk," Johann explained.

"If you're going to tell them the story, get a move on, Johann," snarled Alvin, who had returned to watching Scabber's every move. "I've waited twelve years, I'm not going to wait much longer."

"All right, but you'll have to help me, Alvin," said Johann, "I only know how it began…"

Johann broke off. There had been a loud creak behind him. The bedroom door had opened of its own accord. All five of them stared at it. Then Johann strode towards it and looked out into the landing.

"No one there…"

"This place is haunted!" said Astrid.

"It's not," said Johann, still looking at the door in puzzled way. "The Shrieking Shake was never hunted… the screams and howls the villagers used to hear were made by me."

He pushed his greying hair out of his eyes, thought for a moment, then said, "That's where all of this starts—with my becoming a werewolf. None of this could have happened if I hadn't been bitten… and if I hadn't been so foolhardy…"

He looked sober and tried. Astrid started to interrupt, but Ragnar nudged her telling her to be silent. He was watching Johann very intently.

"I was a very small boy when I received the bite. My parents tried everything, but in those days there was no cure. The potion that Grabbit the Grim had been making for me is a very recent discovery. It makes me safe, you see. As long as I take it in the week preceding the full moon, I keep my mind when I transform… I am able to curl up in my house, harmless, and wait for the moon to wane again."

"Before the Wolfsbane Potion was discovered, however, I became a fully fledged monster once a month. It seemed impossible that I would be able to come to Berk. Other parents weren't likely to want their children exposed to me."

"But then Heyral convinced your grandfather Hiccup, to let me come to the academy, as long as we took certain precautions…" Johann sighed, and looked directly at Hiccup. "I told you, months ago, that the Whimping Willow was planted the year I came to Berk. The truth is that it was planets _because_ I had come to Berk. This house—" Johann looked miserably around the room, "—the tunnel that leads to it—they were built for my use. Once a month, I was smuggled out of the mountain, into this place, to transform. The tree was placed at the tunnel mouth to stop anyone coming across me while I was dangerous."

Hiccup couldn't see where this story was going, but he was listening raptly all the same. The only sound apart from Johann's voice was Scabbers' frightened squeaking.

"My transformations in those days were—were terrible. It is very painful to turn into a werewolf. I was separated from humans to bite, so I bit and scratched myself instead. The villagers heard the noise and the screaming and thought they were hearing particularly violent spirts. Heyral encouraged the rumour… even now, when the house has been silent for years, the villagers don't dare approach it…"

"But apart from my transformation, I was happier than in had ever been in my life. For the first time ever, I had friends, four great friends. Alvin the Treacherous… Savage the Snivelling… Gobber the Belch… and, of course, your father, Hiccup—Stoick the Vast."

"Now, my four friends could hardly fail to notice that I disappeared once a month. I made up all sorts of stories. I told them my mother was ill, and that I had to go home to see her… I was terrified they would desert me the moment they found out what I was. But of course, they, like you, Ragnar, worked out the truth…"

"And they didn't desert me at all. Instead they did something for me that would make my transformations not only bearable, but the best times of my life. They became, apart from Gobber, Animagi."

"My dad, too?" said Hiccup, astounded.

"Yes, indeed," said Johann. "It took them the best part of three years to work out how to do it. Your father and Alvin here were the cleverest students in the academy, and lucky they were, because the Animagus transformation can go horribly wrong—one reason the Ministry keeps a close watch on those attempting to do it. Savage needed all the help he could get from Stoick and Alvin. Finally, in our fifth year, they managed it. They could each turn into a different animal at will."

"But how did that help you and how did Gobber help you?" said Ragnar sounding puzzled.

"They couldn't help keep me company as humans, so they kept me company as animals," said Johann. "A werewolf is only a danger to people. They sneaked out of the mountain… and Gobber, who had been expelled at the time, made sure the village was clear… we hide under Stoick's Invisibility Cape. They transformed… Savage, as the smallest, could slip beneath the Willow's attacking branches and touch the knot that freezes it. They would then slip down the tunnel and join me. Under their influence, I became less dangerous. My body was still wolfish, but my mind to become less so while I was with them."

"Hurry up, Johann," snarled Alvin, who was still watching Scabbers with a horrible sort of hunger in his face.

"I'm getting there, Alvin, I'm getting there… well, highly exciting possibilities were open to us now we could all transform. Soon we were leaving the Shrieking Shack and roaming all over the academy, which was empty thanks to Gobber, and Berksmeade village by night. Alvin and Stoick transformed into such large animals, they were able to keep a werewolf in check. I doubt whether any Berk students ever found out more about the academy and Berksmeade than we did… And that's how we came to write the Marauder's Map, and sign it with our nicknames. Alvin is Padfoot. Savage is Wormtail. Gobber is Forge. Stoick was Fangs."

"What sort of animal—?" Hiccup began, but Ragnar cut across him.

"That was still really dangerous! Running around in the dark with a werewolf! What if you'd given the others the slip, and bitten somebody?"

"A thought that still haunts me," said Johann heavily. "And there were near misses, many of them. We laughed about them afterwards. We were young, thoughtless—carried away with our own cleverness."

"I sometimes felt guilty about betraying Heyral's trust, of course… he was the one that persuaded your grandfather Hiccup when no one else would, and he had no idea I was breaking the rules he had set down for my own and others' safety. He never knew I had led three fellow students into becoming Animagi illegally, or endangered Gobber to clear the village as we roamed around. But I always managed to forget my guilty feelings every time we sat down to plan out next month's adventure. And I haven't changed…"

Johann face had hardened, and there was self-disgust in his voice. "All this year, I have been battling with myself, wondering whether I should tell Heyral that Alvin was an Animagus. But I didn't do it. Why? Because I was too cowardly. It would have meant admitting that I'd betrayed his trust while I was at the academy, admitting that I'd led others along with me… and Heyral's trust has meant everything to me and I'm sure Gobber feels the same way or he'd would have told Heyral years ago. Heyral helped me get into Berk as a boy, and he gave me a job, when I have been shunned all my adult life, unable to find paid work because of what I am. And so I convinced myself that Alvin was getting into the academy using Dark Magic he learnt from Drago Bludvist, that being an Animagus had nothing to do with it… so, in a way, Grabbit's been right about me all along."

"Grabbit?" said Alvin harshly, taking his eyes off Scabbers for the first time in minutes and looking up at Johann. "Grabbit?! As in Grabbit the Grim! What's Grabbit got to do with it?"

"He's here, Alvin," said Johann heavily. "He's teaching here as well." He looked up at Hiccup, Astrid and Ragnar.

"Grabbit was at the academy with us. He fought very hard against my appointment to the Combat Arts job. He has been telling Heyral all year that I am not to be trusted. He has his reasons… you see, Alvin here played a trick on him which nearly killed him, a trick which involved me—"

Alvin made a derisive noise.

"It served him tight," he sneered. "Sneaking around, trying to find out what we were up to… hoping he could get us expelled…"

"Grabbit was very interested in where I went every month," Johann told Hiccup, Astrid and Ragnar. "We were in the same year, you know, and we—uh—didn't like each other very much. He especially disliked Stoick. Jealous, I think, of Stoick's talent on the Dragon Racing stadium… anyway Grabbit had seen me crossing the village and into the farms with Pomfery the Healing, the Herbology Master before Flora, one evening as she led me towards the Whomping Willow to transform. Alvin thought it would be—uh—amusing, to tell Grabbit all he had to do was prod the not on the tree-trunk with a long stick, and he'd be able to get in after me. Well, of course, Grabbit tried it—if he'd got as far as this house, he'd have met a fully grown werewolf—but Gobber, who'd heard what Alvin had done and your father, your father went after Grabbit and pulled him back, at great risk to his life, while Gobber went to inform Heyral, who was headmaster by then, of what had happened. You see Hiccup no matter what Grabbit thinks your father never wanted him dead, but Grabbit couldn't let his grudge go once… Anyway, Grabbit got a glimpsed of me, thought, at the end of the tunnel. He was forbidden to tell anybody by Heyral, but from that time on he knew that I was…"

"So that's way Grabbit doesn't like you," said Hiccup slowly, "because he thought you were in on the joke?"

"Indeed," Johann agreed. "He also wasn't too pleased that Stoick got an award for saving his life."

"That's right," sneered a cold voice from the wall behind Johann.

Grabbit the Grim was pulling off the Invisibility Cape, his axe pointing directly at Johann.


	19. The Servant of Drago Bludvist

Alvin leapt to his feet. Hiccup and Ragnar jumped as though they'd received a huge electric shock.

"I found this at the base of the Whomping Willow," said Grabbit, throwing the Cape aside, careful to keep his axe pointing at Johann's chest. "Very useful, Haddock, I thank you…"

Grabbit was slightly breathless, but his face was full of supressed triumph. "You're wondering, perhaps, how I knew you were here?" he said, his eyes glittering. "I've just been to your office, Johann. You forgot to take your Potion tonight, so I took a gobletful along. And very lucky I did… lucky for me, I mean. Lying on your desk was a certain map. One glance at it told me all I needed to know. I saw you running along this passageway and out of sight."

"Grabbit—" Johann began, but Grabbit overrode him.

"I've told the Headmaster again and again that you've been helping your old friend Alvin into the mountain, Johann, and here's the proof. Not even I dreamed you would have the nerve to use this old place as your hideout—"

"Grabbit, you're making a mistake," said Johann urgently. "You haven't heard everything—I can explain—Alvin is not here to kill Hiccup—"

"Two more for Azkaban tonight," said Grabbit, his eyes now gleaming fanatically. "I shall be interested to see how Heyral, Gobber and Phlegma take this… they were quite convinced you were harmless, you know, Johann… a _tame_ werewolf…"

"You fool," said Johann softly. "Is a schoolboy grudge worth putting an innocent man back inside Azkaban?"

BANG! Thin, snake-like iron cords burst from the end of Grabbit's axe and twisted around Johann's mouth, wrists and ankles; he over-balanced and fell to the floor, unable to move. With a roar of rage, Alvin started towards Grabbit, but Grabbit pointed his axe at Alvin's throat.

"Give me a reason," he whispered. "Give me a reason to do it, and I swear I will."

Alvin stopped dead. It would have been impossible to say which face showed more hatred.

Hiccup stood there, paralysed, not knowing what to do or who to believe. He glanced around at Astrid and Ragnar. Astrid looked just as confused as he did, still fighting to keep hold of the struggling Scabbers. Ragnar, however, looked like he was trying to hold back his anger and said, in a fearless tone. "Sir, it wouldn't hurt to hear what they've got to say?"

"Keatson, you are already facing suspension from this academy," Grabbit spat. "You, Haddock and Miss Hofferson are out of bounds, in the company of a convicted murderer and a werewolf. For once in your life, _hold your tongue_."

"I will not! And I still say—"

"KEEP QUIET, YOU STUPID, BOY! Grabbit shouted, looking suddenly quite deranged as Dagur. "DON'T TALK ABOUT WHAT YOU DON'T UNDERSTAND!" A few sparks shot out of the end of his axe, which was still pointing at Alvin's throat.

"Vengeance is very sweet," Grabbit breathed at Alvin. "How I hoped I would be the one to catch you…"

"The jokes on you again, Grabbit," snarled Alvin. "As long as this girl brings her rat up to the mountain—" he jerked his head at Astrid, "—I'll come quietly…"

"Up to the mountain?" said Grabbit silkily. "I don't think we need to go that far. All I have to do is call the Dementors once we get out of the Willow. They'll be very pleased to see you, Alvin… pleased enough to give you a little kiss, I daresay…"

What little colour there was in Alvin's face left it.

"You—you've got to hear me out," he croaked. "The rat—look at the rat—"

But there was a mad glint in Grabbit's eye that Hiccup had never seen before. He seemed beyond reason.

"Come on, all of you," he said he clicked his fingers, and the ends of the cords that bound Johann flew to his hands. "I'll drag the werewolf. Perhaps the Dementors will have a kiss for him, too—"

Before he knew what he was doing, Hiccup had crossed the room in three strides, and blocked the door.

"Get out of the way, Haddock, you're in enough trouble already," snarled Grabbit. "If I hadn't been here to save your skin—"

"Johann could have killed me about a hundred times this year," Hiccup said. "I've been alone with him loads of times, having defence lessons against the Dementors. If he was helping Alvin, why didn't he just finish me off then?"

"Don't ask me to fathom the way a Werewolf's mind works," hissed Grabbit. "Get out of the way, Haddock."

"YOU'RE PATHETIC!" Hiccup yelled. "JUST BECAUSE THEY MADE A FOOL OF YOU AT THE ACADERMY YOU EON'T EVEN LISTEN—"

"SILENCE! I WILL NOT BE SPOKEN TO LIKE THAT!" Grabbit shrieked, looking madder than ever. "Like father, like son, Haddock! I have just saved your neck, you should be thanking me on bended knee! You would have been well served if he'd killed you! you'd have died like your father, too arrogant to believe you might be mistaken in Alvin! And that goes double for Keatson, no doubt he'll betray you like his murders father! Perhaps he was in one it as well, did you think of that—now get out of the way, or I will _make_ you, GET OUT OF THE WAY, HADDOCK!"

Hiccup made up his mind in a split second. Before Grabbit could take even one step towards, he had raised his sword in hopes to disarm him.

BANG! Grabbit was forced back by a punch made of fire, however, fire wasn't the only thing that hit him. An aura sphere and a bolt of light had also hit him and then combination of all three attack knocked him with such force that Grabbit was lifted off his feet and slammed into the wall, then slid down it to the floor, his hair was singed, his face was covered in ash and a trickle of blood oozing from under his hair. He had been knocked out.

Hiccup looked around. Both Astrid and Ragnar had tried to disarm Grabbit at exactly the same moment. Grabbit's axe soared in a high arc and landed imbedded itself in the floor.

"Oops," said Hiccup. He only wanted to disarm Grabbit in order to talk some sense in him.

"You shouldn't have done that," said Alvin, looking at Hiccup. "You should have left him to me…"

"You're welcome," Astrid muttered.

"We're going to be in soooo much trouble when he wakes up," said Ragnar, staring at the lifeless Grabbit.

Johann was struggling against his bonds. Alvin bent down quickly and untired him. Johann straightened up, rubbing his arms where the ropes had cut into them.

"Thank you, Hiccup," he said.

"I still don't believe you," Hiccup retorted.

"Then it's time we offered you some proof," said Alvin. "You, girl—give me Savage. Now."

Astrid clutched Scabbers closer to her chest.

"You can't be serious," she said in disbelief. "Are you trying to say you broke out of Azkaban just to get your hands on _scabbers_? I mean…" she looked up at Hiccup and Ragnar for support. "Okay, say Savage could turn into a rat—there are millions of rats—how's he supposed to know which one he's after if he was locked up in Azkaban?"

"You know, Alvin, that's a fair question," said Johann, turning to Alvin and frowning slightly. "How _did_ you find out where he was?"

Alvin put one of his claw-like hands inside his trouser pocket and took out a crumpled piece of paper, which he smoothed flat, and held out to show the others.

It was a photograph of Astrid and his family that had appeared in the _Daily Prophet_ the pervious summer, and there, on Astrid's shoulder, was Scabbers.

"How did you get this?" Johann asked Alvin, thunderstruck.

"Fudge," said Alvin. "When he came to inspect Azkaban last year, he gave me his paper. And there was Savage, on the front page… on this girl's shoulder… it was like looking at Loki himself… I knew him at once… how many times had I seen him transform? And the caption said the girl would be going back to Berk… to where Hiccup was…"

"Gobber did acted as if he recognised Scabbers and that was the first time he saw him," said Hiccup thinking back at Gobber's workshop when Gobber saw Scabbers.

"Not surprising," said Alvin. "He knew are transformations by heart."

"Odin's beard," said Johann softly, staring from Scabbers to the picture in the paper and back again. "His front paw…"

"He's got a toe missing," said Alvin.

"Of course," Johann breathed, "so simple… so _brilliant_… He cut it off himself?"

"Just before he transformed," said Alvin. "When I cornered him, he yelled for the whole street to hear that I'd betrayed Stoick and Valka. Then, before I could kill him, he blew apart the street with a combination of Gas and Fire magic behind his back, killed everyone within twenty feet of himself—and sped down into the sewer with the other rats…"

"Didn't you ever hear, Astrid?" said Johann. "The biggest bit of Savage they found was his finger."

"Look, Scabbers probably had a fight with another rat or something! He's been in my family for about—"

"Twelve years," Alvin finished. "A bit of a long lifespan for a common garden rat."

"We—we've been taking good care of him!" said Astrid.

"Not looking too good at the moment, though, is he?" said Johann. "I'd guess he's been losing weight ever since he heard Alvin was on the loose again…"

"He's been scared of that mad Terrible Terror," said Astrid, nodding towards Amber, who was still gazing at Scabbers on the bed.

But that wasn't right, Hiccup thought suddenly… Scabbers had been looking ill before he met Amber… ever since Astrid's return from the Barbaric Archipelago… since the time when Alvin had escaped…

"This Terrible Terror isn't mad," said Alvin hoarsely. He reached out a bony hand and stroked Amber's scaly head. "She's the most intelligent of her kind I've ever met. She recognised me, she knew I was no dog. It was a while before he trusted me. Finally, I managed to communicate to her what I was after, and she's been helping me…"

"Wait, are you saying—" Ragnar breathed.

"That she tried to bring Savage to me, but couldn't… so she stole the passwords into the Gryffindor Common Room for… As I understand it, she took them from a boy's bedside table…"

"And let me guess," said Ragnar, "you climbed up the stairs to the girls dormitory because you were a dog and the enchantments that the founders only work on humans—"

"So I was able to get to the girls dormitory no problem as a dog," Alvin finished.

Hiccup's brain seemed to be sagging under the weight of what he was hearing. It was absurd… and yet…

"However, Savage got wind of what was going on and ran for it… this Terrible Terror—Amber, did you call him?—told me Savage had left blood on your bed sheets, son… I suppose he bit himself and placed a scale on the sheets… well, faking his own death had worked once…"

These words jolted Hiccup to his senses.

"And why did he fake his death?" he said furiously. "Because he knew you were about to kill him like you killed my parents!"

"No," said Johann. "Hiccup—"

"And now you've come to finish him off!"

"Yes, I have," said Alvin, with an evil look at Scabbers.

"Then I should've let Grabbit take you!" Hiccup shouted.

"Hiccup," said Johann hurriedly, "don't you see? All this time we've thought Alvin betrayed your parents, and Savage tracked him down—but it was the other way around, don't you see? _Savage_ betrayed your mother and father—Alvin tracked _Savage _down—"

"THAT'S NOT TRUE!" Hiccup yelled. "HE WAS THEIR SECRET-KEEPER! HE SAID SO BEFORE YOU TURNED UP, HE SAID HE KILLED THEM!"

He pointed at Alvin, who shook his head slowly; the sunken eyes were suddenly over-bright.

"Hiccup… I as good as killed them," he croaked. "I persuaded Stoick and Valka to change to Savage at the last moment, persuaded them to use him as Secret-Keeper instead of me… I'm to blame, I know it… the night they died, but when I arrived at his hiding place, he'd gone. Yet there was no sign of a struggle. It didn't feel right. I was scared. I climbed on Groundsplitter and set out for your parents' house straight away. And when I saw their house, destroyed, and their bodies—I realised what Savage must have done. What I'd done."

His voice broke. He turned away.

"That explains why did he escape to get you on your first year," said Ragnar crossing his arms in deep thought. "And why your Sneakoscope has been buzzing."

"What do you mean?" said Astrid confused.

"Don't you remember, you said the Sneakoscope was buzzing when you were sending it to Hiccup and I'm betting Scabbers was with you wasn't he," said Ragnar.

"Yes, but—" Astrid began, but Ragnar interrupted her.

"And when we were in the compartment on our way to Berk it buzzed again and again during Snoggletog and both times Scabbers was with us."

"You can't seriously believe this," said Astrid looking at both Hiccup and Ragnar.

"There's only one way to find out," said Johann, and there was a steely note in his voice Hiccup never heard before. "There's one certain way to prove what really happened. Astrid, _give me that rat_."

What are you going to do with him if I give him to you?" Astrid asked Johann tensely.

"Force him to show himself," said Johann. "If he really is a rat, it won't hurt him."

Astrid hesitated and looked at Hiccup and Ragnar, who both nodded, then held Scabbers to Johann. The moment Johann took him, Scabbers began to squeak without stopping, twisting and turned, his tiny black eyes bulging in his head.

"Ready, Alvin?" said Johann.

Alvin had already retrieved Grabbit's axe from the bed. He approached Johann and the struggling rat, and his wet eyes suddenly seemed to be burning his face.

"Together," he said quietly.

Johann nodded and held Scabbers tightly in one hand, his dagger in the other and said to Alvin, "On the count of three. One-two—THREE!"

A flash of blue-white light erupted from their weapons; for a moment, Scabbers was frozen in mid-air, his small black form twisting madly—Astrid yelled—the rat fell and hit the floor. There was another blinding flash of light and then—

It was like watching a speeded-up film of a growing tree. A head was shooting upwards from the ground; limbs were sprouting; next moment, a man was standing where Scabbers had been, cringing and wringing his hands. Amber was hissing and snarling on the bed, her tail standing on end.

He was a short and thin man, hardly taller than Hiccup, and he wasn't the tallest Viking in the world, and Ragnar. He had thick brown moustache and a chin puff that was surrounded by a thick stubble. He looked as if he had once had muscles, but had lost them over time. His skin looked grubby, almost like Scabbers' fur, and something of the rat lingered around his pointed nose, his small, watery eyes. He looked around at them, all his breathing fast and shallow. Hiccup saw his eyes dart to the door and back again.

"Well, hello, Savage," said Johann pleasantly, as though rats frequently erupted into old schoolfirends around him. "Long time, no see."

"A-Alvin… J-Johann…" said Savage, as his eyes darted towards the door again. "H-how nice to see you again…"

Alvin's raised his axe, but Johann seized him around the wrist, have him a warning look, then turned again to Savage, his voice light and casual.

"We've been having a little chat, Savage, about what happened the night Stoick and Valka died. You might have missed the finer points while you were squeaking around down there on the bed—"

"Johann," gasped Savage, and Hiccup could see beads of sweat breaking out over his pasty face, "you don't believe him, do you… He tried to kill me, Johann…"

"So we've heard," said Johann, more coldly. "I's like to clear up one or two little matters with you, Savage, if you'd be so—"

"He's come to try and kill me again!" Savage shrieked suddenly, pointing at Alvin, and Hiccup saw that he used his middle finger, because his index was missing. "He killed Stoick and Valka and now he's going to kill me, too… you've got to help me, Johann…"

Alvin's face looked more skull-like than ever as he stared at Savage with his fathomless eyes.

"No one's going to try and kill you until we've sorted a few things out," said Johann.

"Sorted things out?" Savage said in disbelief, looking wildly about him once more, eyes taking in the boarded windows and, again, the only door. "I knew he'd come after me! I knew he'd be back for me! I've been waiting for twelve years!"

"You knew Alvin was going to break out of Azkaban?" said Johann, his brow furrowed. "When nobody has ever done it before?"

"He's got dark powers the rest of us can only dream of!" Savage shouted. "Now else did he get out of there? I suppose the Dragon Lord taught him a few tricks!"

Alvin started to laugh, a horrible, mirthless laugh that filled the whole room.

"Drago Bludvist, teach me tricks?" he said.

Savage flinched as though Alvin had brandished a whip at him.

"What, scared to hear your old master's name?" said Alvin. "I don't blame you, Savage. His lot aren't very happy with you, are they?"

"Don't know—what you mean, Savage—" muttered Savage, his breathing faster than ever. His whole face was shining with sweat now.

"You haven't been hiding from _me_ for Twelve years," said Alvin. "You've been hiding from Drago's old supporters. I heard things in Azkaban, Savage… they all think you're dead, or you'd have to answer to them… I've heard them screaming all sorts of things in their sleeps. Sounds like they think the double-crosser double-crossed them. Drago went to the Haddocks' on your information… and Drago met his downfall there. And not all Drago's supporters ended up in Azkaban, did they? There are still plenty out here, biding their time, pretending they've seen the error of their ways… If they ever got wind that you were still alive, Savage—"

"Don't know… what you're talking about…" said Savage again, trying to act tough and failing miserably. He wiped his face on his arm and looked up at Johann. "You don't believe this—this madness, Johann—"

"I must admit, Savage, I have difficulty in understanding why an innocent man would want to spend twelve years as a rat," said Savage evenly.

"Innocent, but scared!" squealed Savage. "If Drago's supporters were after me, it was because I put one of their best men in Azkaban—the spy, Alvin the Treacherous!"

Alvin's face contorted.

"How dare you," he growled, sounding suddenly like a bear-sized dog he had been. "I, a spy for Drago Bludvist? When did I ever sneak around people who were stronger and more powerful than myself? Bu you, Savage—I'll never understand why I didn't see you were the spy from the start. You always liked big friends who'd look after you, didn't you? It used to be us… me, Gobber and Johann… and Stoick…"

Savage wiped his face again; he was almost panting for breath.

"Me, a spy… you must be out of your mind… never… don't know how you can say such a—"

"Stoick and Valka only made you Secret-Keeper because I suggested it," Alvin hissed, so venomously that Savage took a step backwards. "I thought it was the perfect plan… a bluff… Drago would be sure to come after me, he'd would never dreamed they'd use a weak, talentless thing like you… it must have been the finest moment of your miserable life, telling Drago you could hand him the last Haddocks."

Savage kept on muttering things like "you're crazy", but Hiccup noticed the ashen colour of Savage's face and the way his eyes continued to dart towards the windows and door.

"Johann?" said Ragnar. "Can I just say something?"

"Certainly, Ragnar," said Johann courteously.

"Well—Scabbers—I mean, Savage, he'd had plenty of times to kill Hiccup over the past three years. So, if he was working for the Dragon Lord why hasn't he?"

"There!" said Savager, pointing at Ragnar with his maimed had. "Thank you! You see, Johann? I have never hurt a hair of Hiccup's head! Why should I?"

"I'll tell you why," said Alvin. "Because you never did anything for anyone unless you could see what was in it for you. Drago's been hiding for twelve years, they say he'd half-dead. You weren't about to commit murder right under Heyral the Wise's nose, for a wreck of a Viking who'd lost all his power, were you? You'd want to be quite sure he was the biggest bully in the playground before you went back to him, wouldn't you? Why else did you find a Viking family to take in case your old protector regained strength, and it was safe to re-join him…"

Savage opened his mouth and closed it serval times. He seemed to have lost the ability to talk.

"Uh—Alvin—Dad?" said Ragnar rubbing the back of his head.

Alvin jumped at being addressed like this and stared at Ragnar. Obviously he wasn't used of someone calling him _Dad_ and Ragnar himself was a bit awkward.

"If you don't mind me asking how—how did you get out of Azkaban, if you didn't use Dark Magic?"

"Thank you!" gasped Savage, nodding frantically at him. "Exactly! Precisely what I—"

But Johann silenced him with a look. Alvin was frowning slightly at Ragnar, but not as though he was annoyed with him. He seemed to be pondering his answer.

"I don't know how I did it," he said slowly. "I think the only reason I never lost my mind is that I knew I was innocent. That wasn't a happy thought, so the Dementors couldn't suck it out of me… but it kept me sane and knowing who I am… helped me keep my powers… so when it all became… too much… I could transform in my cell… become a dog. Dementors can't see, you know…" He swallowed. "They feel their way towards people by sensing their emotions… they could tell that my feeling were less—less human, less complex when I was a dog… but they thought, of course, that I was losing my mind like everyone else in there, so it didn't trouble them. But I was weak, very weak, and I had no hope of driving them away from me without a crystal eye…"

"But then I saw Savage in that picture… I realised he was at Berk with Hiccup… perfectly positioned to act, if one hint reached his ears that the Dark Side was gathering strength again…"

Savage was shaking his head, mouthing noiselessly, but staring all the while at Alvin as though hypnotised.

"…ready to strike the moment he could be sure of allies… to deliver the last Haddock to them. If he gave them Hiccup, who'd dare say he'd betrayed Savage? He'd be welcome back with honours…"

Hiccup remembered what Mr Hofferson had told Mrs Hofferson. "The guards say he's been talking in his sleep… always the same words… '_He's at Berk_'."

"It was as if Thor himself had struck me with a lightning bolt, and lit a fire in my heart that the Dementors couldn't destroyed it… it wasn't a happy feeling… it was an obsession… but it gave me strength, it cleared my mind. So, one night when they opened my door to bring food, I slipped past them as a dog… it's so much harder for them to sense animal emotions that they were confused… I lost a lot of weight during my imprisonment, so much that I was able slip through the bars… I swam as a dog back to the mainland… I journeyed north and swam across the lake to the island as a dog once again… I've been living in Raven's Point ever since… except when I came to watch the Dragon Racing match, of course… imagine my surprise that you were riding on the same Night Fury that Valka once saved when he was a baby… you fly just like your parents, you've got your fathers stubbornness and you're a natural with bonding with dragons like your mother, Hiccup…"

He looked at Hiccup, who did not look away.

"Believe me," croaked Alvin. "Believe me. I never betrayed Stoick and Valka. I would have died before I betrayed them." He then looked at Ragnar. "And I'd never leave you and your mother for power. I loved Freida with all my heart."

Hiccup looked at Ragnar and one look told him that, at long last, they believe him. Hiccup's throat was too tight to speak and Ragnar was speechless, they both nodded.

"No!"

Savage had fallen to his knees as though their nod had been his own death sentence. He shuffled forward on his knees, grovelling, his hands clasped in front of him as though praying.

"Alvin—it's me… it's Sav… your friend… you wouldn't…"

Alvin kicked out and Savage recoiled.

"There's enough filth on my trousers without you touching them," said Alvin.

"Johann!" Savage squeaked, turning to Johann instead, writhing imploringly in front of him. "You don't believe this… Wouldn't Alvin have told you they'd change the plan?"

"Not if he thought I was the spy, Savage," said Johann. "I assume that's why you didn't tell me, Alvin?" he said casually over Savages head.

"For some called the 'Trusting' I didn't trust my really friends," said Alvin. "Can you forgive me, old friend?"

"Of course, Padfoot," said Johann, who was now rolling up his sleeves. "And will you, in turn, forgive me for believing _you_ were the spy?"

"Of course," said Alvin, and the ghost of a grin flitted across his gaunt face. He, too, began rolling up his sleeves. "Shall we kill him together?"

"Yes, I think so," said Johann grimly.

"You wouldn't… you won't…" gasped Astrid. And he scrambled around to Astrid.

"Astrid… haven't I been a good friend… a good pet? You won't let them kill me, will you… you're on my side, aren't you?"

Astrid glared at Savage.

"You're pathetic," she said. "You think I'll protect you after what you betrayed my best friends dads."

"Kind girl… kind mistress…" Savage crawled towards Astrid, "you don't mean that surly… I was your rat… I was a good pet…"

"If you made a better rat than human, it's not much to boast about, Savage," said Alvin harshly. Astrid, going still paler with pain, wrenched her broken leg out of Savage's reach. Savage turned on his knees, staggered forwards and seized the hem of his shirt.

"Dear Ragnar… cleaver boy… you—you won't let them help me…"

Ragnar's expression matched that of his fathers and he pulled his shirt out of Savage's clutching hands looking disgusted.

Savage knelt, trembling uncontrollably, and turned his head slowly towards Hiccup.

"Hiccup… Hiccup… you look just like your mother… you've got your father's eyes…"

"HOW DARE YOU SPEAK TO HICCUP?" roared Alvin. "HOW DARE YOU FACE HIM? HOW DARE YOU TALK ABOUT STOICK AND VALKA IN FRONT OF HIM?"

"Hiccup," whispered Savage, shuffling towards him, hands outstretched, "Hiccup, Valka wouldn't have wanted me killed… Valka would have understood, Hiccup… she would have shown me mercy…"

Both Alvin and Johann strode forwards, seized Savage's shoulders and threw him backwards onto the floor. He sat there, twitching with terror, staring up at them.

"You sold Stoick and Valka to Drago," said Alvin, who was shaking too. "Do you deny it?"

Savage looked frantic as he cowered on the floor.

"Alvin, Alvin, what could I have done? The Dragon Lord… you have no idea… he has weapons you can't imagine… I was scared, Alvin, I was never brave like you and Johann and Stoick. I never meant it to happen… the Dragon Lord forced me—"

"DON'T LIE!" bellowed Alvin. "YOU'D BEEN PASSING INFORMATION TO HIM FOR A YEAR BEFORE STOICK AND VALKA DIED! YOU WERE HIS SPY!"

"He—he was taking over everywhere!" gasped Savage. "Wh-what was there to be gained by refusing him?"

"What was there to be gained by fighting the most evil tyrant who has ever existed?" said Stoick, with a terrible fury in his face. "Only innocent lives, Savage!"

"You don't understand!" whined Savage. "He would have killed me, Alvin!"

"THEN YOU SHOULD HAVE DIED!" roared Alvin. "'WE'RE VIKINGS IS AN OCCUPATIONAL HAZARD' THAT WHAT STOICK ALWAYS SAID. I'D RATHER DIE THAN BETRAY BY FRIENDS, AS I WOULD HAVE DONE FOR YOU!"

Alvin and Johann stood shoulder to shoulder, their weapons raised.

"In all my years traveling the world I had never met such a coward," said Johann quietly. "Goodbye, Savage."

"NO!" Hiccup yelled. He ran forwards, placing himself in front of Savage, facing the weapons. "You can't kill me," he said breathlessly. "You can't."

Alvin and Johann both looked staggered.

"Hiccup, this piece of vermin is the reason you have no parents, the reason Ragnar lived without knowing his father," Alvin snarled. "This cringing bit of filth would have seen you die, too, without turning a hair. You heard him. His own stinking skin meant more to him than your whole family. And you want to spare him are you serious?"

"Yes," said Hiccup firmly. "That's why we'll take him to the mountain. We'll hand him over to the Dementors. He can go to Azkaban… just don't kill him."

"Hiccup!" gasped Savage, and he flung his arm around Hiccup's knees. "You—thank you—it's more than I deserve—thank you—"

"Yeah, I know," Hiccup spat, throwing Savage's hands off him in disgust. "That's why I'm not doing it for you. I'm doing it because I don't reckon my dad would've wanted his best friends to become killers—just for you."

No one moved or made a sound except Savage, whose breath was coming in wheezes as he clutched his chest. Alvin and Johann were looking at each other. Then, with one moment, they lowered their weapons.

"You're the only person who has the right to decide, Hiccup," said Alvin. "But think… think what he did…"

"Death would be the easy way out," said Hiccup and looked at Savage with disgust. "He doesn't deceiver it."


	20. The Dementors' Kiss

Hiccup had never been part of a stranger group. Amber led the way down the stairs; Hiccup and Alvin went next hold Astrid, who now had a splint on her broken which they made my using two pieces of wood and tired them together with his bed sheets. Next came Grabbit, drifting creepily along, his toes hitting each stair as they descended, held up my Johann. Last was Ragnar, who had created an aura sword and pointing it at Savages' back.

Getting back into the tunnel was difficult. There was barely enough room for Hiccup, Astrid and Alvin, who were being careful because of Astrid's broken leg.

"Sorry about the bit," said Alvin noticing Astrid's pain. "I reckon that twinges a bit."

"_A bit… a bit…_!" Astrid snarled. "I'm luck you didn't tear my leg off!"

"I was going for the rat," said Alvin in his defence. "Normally I have a very sweet disposition as a dog. In fact more than once Stoick suggested that I made the change permanent." He then paused as if remembering something painful. "The tail I could live with… but the flies… their murder."

Hiccup chuckled as they exited the tunnel. Amber darted up first; she had evidently pressed her claw to the knot on the trunk, because when they climbed out the tree didn't attack. They both placed Astrid on one of the willows roots and the two of them helped the other out.

"Let's stop for a few minutes so Astrid can rest," said Hiccup.

They all nodded and Hiccup then noticed that Alvin was staring at the mountain. The village was completely dark except for a few torches that burnt in the distance.

"Go," said Astrid looking at Hiccup and Ragnar and pulled her axe out and pointed it at Savage. "I'll watch him."

The two boys nodded and walked up to Alvin.

"It's beautiful isn't it," said Alvin not turning to look at them. "I'll never forget the first time I stepped foot on this island. It'll be nice to do it again as a free man."

They remained silent for a few seconds until Ragnar said, "Mum never married you know."

"It'll be nice to see her again," said Alvin dreamily. He then looked at Hiccup. "I don't know if anyone ever told you—I'm your godfather."

"Yeah, I knew that," said Hiccup.

"Well… your parents appointed me your guardian," said Alvin stiffly. "If anything happened to them…"

Hiccup and Ragnar waited. They both were thinking the same thing. Was Alvin mean what they thought he meant?

"I'll understand, of course, if you want to stay with your aunt and uncle," said Alvin. "But… well… think about it. Once my name's cleared… if you wanted a… a different home…"

Some sort of explosion took place in the pit of Hiccup's stomach. And looking at Ragnar it was clear he was thinking the same.

"What—live with you and Rag?" he said. "Leave the Dalssons?"

"Of course, I thought you wouldn't want to," said Alvin quickly. "I understand. I just thought I'd—"

"Are you mad?" said Hiccup, his voice easily as croaky as Alvin's. "Of course I want to leave the Dalssons! When can I move in?"

"How about at the end of term," said Ragnar placing his arm around Hiccup's shoulder.

Alvin's gaunt face broke into the first true smile Hiccup had seen upon it. the difference it made was startling, as though a person ten years younger was shining through the starved mask; for a moment, he was recognised as the man who had laughed at Hiccup's parents' wedding.

Hiccup's mind was buzzing. He was going to leave the Dalssons. He was going to live with Ragnar and his parents… he felt dazed… What would happen when he told Olaf he was going to live with the convict they'd seen on television!

But then everything went wrong. A cloud shifted. There were suddenly dim shadows on the ground. Their party was bathed in moonlight.

"Oh no," said Alvin looking at Johann.

Hiccup saw Johann, he had gone rigid. Then his limbs began to shake.

"He didn't take his Potion tonight! He's not safe!" Ragnar gasped.

"Run!" Alvin yelled pushing Hiccup and Astrid aside. "Run! Now!"

But Hiccup couldn't run. There was a terrible snarling noise. Johann's head was lengthening. So was his body. His shoulders were hunching. Hair was sprouting visibly on his face and hands, which were curling into clawed paws. His clothes were torn apart and scattered everywhere.

As the werewolf reared, snapping its long jaws, Alvin charged at Johann and transformed. The enormous bear-like dog bounded forwards and seized it about the neck and pulled backwards, away from Astrid and Savage. They were locked, jaw to jaw, claws ripping at each other—

Hiccup stood, transfixed by the sight; too intent upon the battle to notice anything else. It was Astrid's scream that alerted him—

Savage had dived for Johann's dagger. Astrid raised her axe at him, but Savage fired a chunk of earth—and Astrid lay motionless on the ground. Savage fired another chunk of earth—Amber flew from the air and landed in a heap on the earth.

Hiccup quickly tossed a fireball at Savage, disarming him. Savage turned to Hiccup with a menacing smile.

"You should have killed me while you had the chance," said Savage and before Hiccup could stop him, he transformed.

Hiccup threw several fireballs at him, but Savage was too fast. Hiccup saw his bald tail whip through the manacle on Astrid's outstretched arm, and heard a scurrying through the glass.

There was a howl and a rumbling growl; Hiccup turned to see the werewolf taking flight; it was galloping into the forest—

"Alvin, he's gone, Savage transformed!" Hiccup yelled.

Alvin was bleeding; there were gashes across his muzzle and back, but Hiccup's words he scrambled up again, and in an instant, the sound of his paws was fading to silence as he pounded away across the farm.

Hiccup and Ragnar dashed over to Astrid.

"She's fine," said Ragnar examining Astrid and saw a large bump on her head. "But she'll be like this for some time."

Hiccup looked desperately around. Alvin and Johann both gone… they had no one but Grabbit for company, still hanging, unconscious, in mid-air.

"We'd better get them to the village and tell someone," said Hiccup, pushing his hair out of his eyes, trying to think straight. "Come—"

But then, out of the darkness, they heard a yelping, a whining; a dog in pain…

"Alvin," Hiccup muttered, staring into the darkness.

He had a moment's indecision, but there was nothing they could do for Astrid at the moment, and by the sound of it, Alvin was in trouble—

Hiccup set off at a run, Ragnar right behind him. The yelping seemed to be coming from near Thor's Beach. They pelted towards it, and Hiccup, running flat out, felt the cold without realising what I must mean—

The yelping stopped abruptly. As they reached Thor's Beach they saw why—Alvin had turned back into a man. He was crouching on all fours, his hands over his head.

"_Nooo_," he moaned. "_Noooo… please…_"

And then Hiccup saw them. Dementors, at least a hundred of them, gliding in a black mass around the lake towards them. He spun around, the familiar, icy cold penetrating his insides, fog starting to obscure his vision; more were appearing out of the darkness on every side; they were encircling them…

"Ragnar, think of something happy," Hiccup yelled, raising his sword, blinking furiously to try and clear his vision, shaking his head to rid it of the faint screaming that had started inside it—

_I'm going to live with Ragnar and his parents. I'm leaving the Dalssons._

He forced himself to think of Ragnar and Alvin, and only them and began to concentrate.

Alvin gave a shudder, rolled over and lay motionless on the ground, pale as death.

_He'll be all right. I'm going to go and live with him and Rag._

"Ragnar, help me!"

"I-I'm... trying—" Ragnar whispered. "I'm—I'm trying—"

But he couldn't do it. The Dementors were closing in, barely ten feet from them. They formed a solid wall around Hiccup and Ragnar, and were getting closer…

"GET A WAY!" Hiccup yelled, trying to concentrate and trying to blot the screaming from his ears. "GET A WAY FROM HIM!"

A thin wisp of silver escaped from his sword and hovered like mist before him. At the same moment, Hiccup felt Ragnar collapse next to him. He was alone… completely alone…

"Leave—leave us alone—"

By the feeble light of his formless Guardian, he saw a Dementor halt, very close to him. It couldn't walk through the cloud of silver mist Hiccup had conjured. A dead, slimy hand slid out from under the cloak. It made a gesture as though to sweep the mist aside.

"No—_no_—" Hiccup gasped. "He's innocent… get—get away from him—"

He could feel them watching him, hear their rattling breath like an evil wind around him. The nearest Dementor seemed to be considering him. Then it raised both its rotting hands—and lowered its hood.

Where there should have been eyes, there was only thin, grey, scabbed skin, stretched blankly over empty sockets. But there was a mouth… a gaping, shapeless hole, sucking the air with the sound of death-rattle.

A paralysing terror filled Hiccup so that he couldn't move or speak. His Guardian flickered and died.

White fog was blinding him. He had to fight… he had to concentrate… he groped in the mist for Alvin, and found his arm… they weren't to take him…

But a pair of strong, clammy hands suddenly wrapped themselves around Hiccup's neck. They were forcing his face upwards… he could feel its breath… it was going to get rid of him first… he could feel its putrid breath… his mother was screaming in his ears… she was going to be the last thing he ever heard—

And then, through the fog that was drowning him, he thought he saw a silvery light, growing brighter and brighter… he felt himself fall forwards onto the sand—

Face down, too weak to move, sick and shaking, Hiccup opened his eyes. The blinding light was illuminating from the cliff above him… The screaming had stopped, the cold was ebbing away…

Something was slamming into the Dementors… it was flying around him and Alvin and Ragnar… the rattling, sucking sounds of the Dementors were fading. They were leaving… the air was warm again…

With everyone ounce of strength he could muster, Hiccup raised his head a few inches and saw an animal amidst the light, flying away over the beach. Eyes blurred with sweat, Hiccup tried to make out what it was… it was bright as a unicorn. Fighting to stay conscious, Hiccup watched it flying up to the cliff. For a moment, Hiccup saw, by its brightness, somebody welcoming it back… raised his hand to pat it… someone who looked strangely familiar…

Hiccup didn't understand. He couldn't think any more. He felt the last of his strength leave him, and his head hit the ground as he fainted.


	21. Ragnar's Secret

"Shocking business… shocking… miracle none of them died… never heard the like… by thunder, it was lucky you were there, Grabbit…"

"Thank you, Minister."

"Order of Haddock, Second Class, I'd say. First Class, if I cab wangle it!"

"Thank you very much indeed, Minster."

"Nasty cut you've got there… Alvin's work, I suppose?"

"As a matter of fact, it was Haddock, Hofferson and Keatson, Minister…"

"_No!_"

"Alvin had bewitched them, I saw it immediately. The Loki Grip, to judge by their behaviour. They seemed to think there was a possibility he was innocent. They weren't responsible for their actions. On the other hand, their interference might have permitted Alvin to escape… they obviously thought they were going to catch Alvin single-handed. They've got away a great deal before now… I'm afraid it's given them a rather high opinion of themselves… and of course Haddock had always been allowed an extraordinary amount of licence by the Headmaster—"

"Ah, well, Grabbit… Hiccup Haddock, you know… we've all got a bit of a blind spot where he's concerned."

"And yet—is it good for him to be given so much special treatment? Personally I try to treat him like any other student. And any other student would be suspended—at the very least—for leading his friends into such danger. Consider, Minister: against all academy rules—after all the precautions put in place for his protection—out of bounds, at night, consorting with a werewolf and a murderer—and I have reason to believe he has been visiting Berksmeade illegally, too—"

"Well, well… we shall see, Grabbit, we shall see… the boy has undoubtedly been foolish…"

Hiccup lay listening with his eyes tight shut. He felt very groggy. The words he was hearing seemed to be travelling very slowly from his ears to his brain, so that it was difficult to understand. His limbs felt like lead; his eyelids too heavy to lift… he wanted to lie here, on the comfortable bed, for ever…

"What amazes me most is the behaviour of the Dementors… you've really no idea what made them retreat, Grabbit?"

"No, Minister. By the time I had come round half of them were destroyed and the other half were heading back to their positions at the entrance…"

"Extraordinary. And yet Alvin, his son and Hiccup—"

"All unconscious by the time I reached them. I bound and gagged Alvin, naturally, used some Wind Magic to lift them in the air and brought them all straight back to the village."

There was a pause. Hiccup's brain seemed to be moving al little faster, and as it did, a gnawing sensation grew in the pit of his stomach…

He opened his eyes.

Everything was slightly blurred. He was lying in the dark healing centre. At the very end of the ward, he could make out Flora with her back to him, bending over a bed. Hiccup squinted. Astrid's blond hair was visible beneath Flora's arm and from the yells he could hear Astrid was a wake as Flora bandaged her leg.

Hiccup moved his head over on the pillow. In the bed to his right lay Ragnar. Moonlight was falling across his bed. His eyes were open, too. When he saw Hiccup was awake, pressed a finger to his lips, then pointed to the healing-centre door. It was ajar, and the voices of Fudge the Mighty and Grabbit were coming through it from the corridor outside.

Flora now came walking briskly up the dark ward to Hiccup's bed. He turned to look at her. She was carrying the largest block of chocolate he had ever seen in his life. It looked like a small boulder.

"Ah, you're awake!" she said briskly. She placed the chocolate on Hiccup's bedside table and began breaking it apart with a small hammer.

"How are you Astrid?" Hiccup asked.

"Apart from a broken leg and a killer headache I'm just peachy," Astrid muttered.

"You'll live," said Flora grimly. "All three of you'll be staying until I'm satisfied you're—Haddock, Keatson, what do you think you're doing?"

Both Hiccup and Ragnar were both getting out of their beds.

"We need to see the Headmaster," they said.

"Relax," said Flora soothingly, "it's all right. They've got Alvin. He's locked away upstairs. The Dementors will be performing the Kiss any moment now—"

"WHAT?!" they all shouted.

Hiccup and Ragnar jumped out of their beds and Astrid was also making an attempt to no avail. Their shouts had been heard outside; next second, Fudge and Grabbit entered the room.

"Hiccup, Hiccup, what's this?" said Fudge, looking agitated. "You should be in bed—has he had any chocolate?" he asked Flora anxiously.

"Minister, listen!" Hiccup said. "Alvin the Treacherous isn't treacherous, he's innocent! Savage the Snivelling faked his own death! We saw him tonight! You can't let the Dementors do that thing to Alvin, he's—"

But Fudge was shaking his head with a small smile on his face.

"Hiccup, Hiccup, you've very confused, you're been through a dreadful ordeal, lie back down, now, we've got everything under control…"

"YOU HAVEN'T!" Hiccup yelled. "YOU'VE GOT THE WRONG MAN!"

"Minister, listen," Ragnar said; he had walked over to Hiccup's side and was looking at Fudge with a fixed expression. "I saw him, too, he's an Animagus—"

"Yeah, he was disguised as my rat for twelve years and attacked us. I've got the bump to prove it," said Astrid gesturing to the bump on her head.

"You see, Minister?" said Grabbit. "Confounded, all three of them… Alvin's done a very good job on them…"

"WE'RE NOT CONFUNDED!" Hiccup roared.

"Minister! Grabbit!" said Flora angrily. "I must insist that you leave. Hiccup is my patient, and he and his friends should not be distressed!"

"We're not distressed, I'm trying to tell them what happened!" Hiccup said furiously. "If they'd just listen—"

But Flora suddenly stuffed a large chunk of chocolate into Hiccup's mouth. He choked, and she seized the opportunity to force him back onto the bed.

"Now, _please_, Minster, these children need care. Please leave—"

The door opened again. It was Heyral, Gobber and Phlegma. Hiccup swallowed his mouthful of chocolate with great difficulty, and got up again looking at Heyral.

"Sir, Alvin—"

"For the love of Valhalla!" said Flora hysterically. "Is this a healing centre or not? Headmaster, I must insist—"

"Our apologies, Flora, but we need a word with Mr Haddock, Mr Keatson and Miss Hofferson," said Heyral calmly. "I have just been talking to Alvin—"

"I suppose he's told you the same fairy tale he's planted in Haddock's mind?" spat Grabbit. "Something about a rat, and Savage being alive—"

"That's, indeed, is Alvin's story," said Heyral, surveying Grabbit closely.

"I'm also in clam to believe his story being so farfetched," said Phlegma.

"And does my evidence count for nothing?" snarled Grabbit. "Savage the Snivelling was not in the Shrieking Shack, nor did I see any sign of him when I came round."

"That was because we knocked you out!" said Astrid glaring at Grabbit. "You didn't arrive in time to hear—"

"Miss Hofferson, HOLD YOUR TONGUE!"

"Grabbit!" said Phlegma giving him a threatening look. "Don't you ever talk to members of my house like that!"

"Let's all care down," said Fudge, startled.

"We would like to speak to Hiccup, Astrid and Ragnar alone," said Heyral abruptly. "Fudge, Grabbit, Flora—please leave us."

"Headmaster!" spluttered Flora. "They need treatment, they need rest—"

"This cannot wait," said Heyral. "I must insist."

Flora pursed her lips and strode away upstairs to her room above the healing centre, slamming the door behind her. Fudge consulted the his watch on his wrist.

"The Dementors should have arrived by now," he said. "I'll go and meet them. Heyral, I'll be seeing you soon."

He crossed to the door and held it open for Grabbit, but Grabbit hadn't moved.

"You three of all people surely don't believe a word of Alvin's story?" Grabbit whispered, his eyes fixed on Heyral's face.

"Neither can we trust the words of man who'd like to see him hang," said Gobber.

Grabbit glared at him, but Heyral raised his arm. "I wish that we speak to Hiccup, Astrid and Ragnar alone," Heyral repeated.

Grabbit took a step towards Heyral.

"Alvin the Treacherous showed he was capable of murder at the age of sixteen," he breathed. "You haven't forgotten that, Headmaster? You haven't forgotten that he once tried to kill _me_?"

"My memory is a s good as it ever was, Grabbit," said Heyral quietly.

Grabbit turned on his heel and marched through the door Fudge was still holding. It closed behind them and Heyral turned to Hiccup, Astrid and Ragnar. The three of them burst into speech at the same him.

"Sir, Alvin's telling the truth—we _saw_ Savage—"

"—he escaped when Johann turned into a werewolf—"

"—Savage was Scabbers—"

"—Savage's front paw, I mean, finger, he cut it off—"

"—he was the Secret-Keeper, not Alvin—"

But Heyral held up his hand to stern the flood of explanations.

"It is your turn to listen, and I beg you will not interrupt me, because there is very little time," he said quietly. "There is not a shred of proof to support Alvin's story, except your word—and the word of three thirteen-year-old Vikings will not convince anybody. A street full of eye-witnesses swore they saw Alvin murder Savage. I myself gave evidence to the Ministry, along with Gobber and Phlegma here, that Alvin had been the Haddock's Secret-Keeper."

"Johann can tell you—" Hiccup said, unable to stop himself.

"Johann is currently deep in the Forest, unable to tell anyone anything. By the time he is human again, it will be too late, Alvin will be worse than dead."

"I've already tried and fail to convince Fudge to wait until Johann returns," said Gobber sadly.

"Also werewolves are so mistrusted by most of our kind that his support will count for very little—and the fact that he and Alvin are old friends—" Phlegma began.

"But—" Hiccup interrupted.

"_Listen to me, Hiccup_," said Heyral. "Phlegma and Gobber are right, it is too late, you understand me? You must see that Grabbit's version of events is far more convincing than yours."

"He hates my dad," Ragnar said angrily. "All because of some stupid trick my dad played on him—"

"Alvin has not acted like an innocent man. The attack on the Fat Valkyrie—entering the Gryffindor Common Room with a knife—without Savage, alive or dead, we have no chance of overturning Alvin's sentence."

"_But you believe us_."

"Yes, I do, as does Phlegma, Gobber informed me that he recognised Savage a few hours ago as a rat," said Heyral quietly. "But we have no power to make other men see the truth, or to overrule the Minister for Magic…"

"So, what?" said Astrid looking annoyed. "We just sit around here and let the Dementors kiss Alvin?"

Hiccup stared up at Heyral's grave face and felt as though the ground beneath him was falling sharply away. He had grown used to the idea that Heyral could solve anything. He had expected Heyral to pull some amazing solution out of the air. But no… their last hope was gone.

"What we need," said Heyral slowly, and his light-blue eyes moved from Hiccup to Ragnar, "is more _time_."

Ragnar looked confused, but then he seemed to realise what Heyral meant. He then saw Ragnar look at Phlegma, who nodded as if to agree on something.

"Now, pay attention," said Heyral, speaking very low, and very clearly. "Alvin is locked in Flitwick's house in the plaza on the first floor. If all goes well, you will be able to save more than one innocent life tonight. But remember this. _You must not be seen_. Keatson you know the law—you know what is at stake… _you—must—not—be—seen_."

Hiccup didn't have a clue what was going on and neither did Astrid and Gobber judging from their faces. Heyral had turned on his heel, Gobber and Phlegma followed him, and looked back as they reached the door.

"I am going to lock you in. It is—" he consulted his watch, "five minutes to midnight. Mr Keatson three turned should do it. Good luck."

Heyral then closed the door behind him.

"What in the name of Thor was that about?" Astrid asked.

"Yeah," Hiccup agreed. "Good luck with what? Three turns? What's he talking about? What are we supposed to do?"

But Ragnar was fumbling with the neck of his shirt, pulling from beneath it a very long, very fine gold chain.

"Sorry, Astrid," said Ragnar as he pulled Hiccup towards him, "but seeing how you can't walk."

Hiccup was still completely bewildered. He was holding the chain out. He saw a tiny, sparkling hourglass hanging from it.

"Here—"

He had thrown the chain around his neck, too.

"Ready?" he asked.

"For what?" Hiccup said,, completely lost.

Ragnar turned the hourglass over three times.

The dark ward dissolved. Hiccup had the sensation that he was flying, very fast backwards. A blur of colours and shapes rushed past him; his ears were pounding. He tried to yelled but couldn't hear his own voice—

And then he felt solid ground beneath his feet, and everything came into focus again—

He was standing next to Ragnar in the deserted Great Hall and a stream of golden sunlight was shining through the enchanted ceiling above them. He looked wildly around at Ragnar, the chain of the hourglass cutting into his neck.

"Ragnar, what—?"

"Behind here!" Ragnar whispered, pulling Hiccup behind a pillar.

Before Hiccup could ask what was going, he heard footsteps and peered behind the pillar. He could see himself, Ragnar or Astrid, because they were wearing the Invisibility Cape, but he recognised the footsteps and the whispers that came from the Cape.

"But that's us," Hiccup gasped. "This is not right."

Ragnar quickly placed his hand over Hiccup's mouth and didn't remove it until the Great Hall's doors closed.

"We've gone back three hours," Ragnar explained as he removed chain for his neck.

"We've what?!" Hiccup said bewildered.

"It's called a Time-Turner," Ragnar whispered gesturing to the chain and hourglass, "and I got it from Phlegma on our first day back. I've been using it all year to get to my lessons. Phlegma made me swear I wouldn't tell anyone. She had to write all sorts of letters to the Ministry of Magic so I could have one. She had to tell them that I was a model student, and that I've never, ever use it for anything except my studies… I've been turning it back so I could do hours over again, that's how I've been doing several lessons at once, see?"

"Okay," said Hiccup still a little dumbfounded. "But why send us back three hours, Alvin was caught one ago… I mean two hours before now."

"I know," Ragnar agreed. "Then there must be something he wanted us to do."

"Well, three hour ago… I mean right now, we're heading to Gobber—" Then a sudden thought stuck Hiccup. "Rag, Heyral just said—just said we could save more than one innocent life could be spared—he meant Groundsplitter."

"But—how will that help Alvin?"

"Heyral told us that Alvin where they were going to lock him up—the window in Flitwick's house! We can get Groundsplitter fly up to the window on the first floor of Flitwick's house and rescue Alvin! Alvin can escape on Groundsplitter—they can escape together!"

Ragnar thought about the plan and it seemed to make sense to him.

"It may just work, as long no one sees us."

"Then let's get going," said Hiccup.

They nodded and walked out of their hiding place. As quietly and quickly as they could, they darted to the door and ran down the stone steps. The shadows were already lengthening, the tops of the trees in Raven's Point gilded once more with gold.

"If anyone's looking out of the windows—" said Ragnar worriedly, looking at the village ahead of them.

"We'll run for it," said Hiccup determinedly. "Run from house to house, until we get a perfect view of Gobber's workshop."

"Okay, but we'll have to stay out of sight of Gobber's front door, or we'll see us! We must be nearly at Gobber's by now!"

Still working out what he meant, Hiccup set off at a sprint, Ragnar behind them. They rushed from house to house, paused for a moment behind them, then set off again, fast as they could until they reached a house opposite of Gobber's with a great view of the front of Gobber's workshop and of Groundsplitter, who was tethered to a wooden stake by metal chains and the sleeping Grump.

Safe in the shadows of the house they hid behind, Hiccup turned around; seconds later, Ragnar arrived beside him, panting.

"Right," he gasped, "we just need to wait, but we have to keep out of sight."

Then, as they glimpsed the front of Gobber's house, they heard a knock upon the doorframe. They saw Gobber appearing in his doorway, looking around to see who had knocked. And Hiccup heard his own voice.

"It's us. We're wearing the Invisibility Cape. Let us in and we can take it off."

"Yeh shouldn've come!" Gobber whispered. He stood back, then entered the workshop.

"This is the weirdest thing we've ever done," Hiccup said fervently.

"Hey, ah life is not over yet," said Ragnar.

At that moment, there was a crash of breaking china from inside Gobber's workshop.

"That's Gobber breaking the milk jug," Ragnar whispered. "I'm going to find Scabbers in a moment—"

Sure enough, a few minutes later, they heard Ragnar's gasp of surprise.

"Rag," said Hiccup suddenly, "what if we—we just run in there, and grab Savage—"

"No!" said Ragnar firmly. "Don't you understand? We're breaking one of the most important Viking laws! Nobody's supposed to change time, nobody! You heard Heyral, if we're seen—"

"We'd only be seen by ourselves and Gobber!"

"Hiccup, what do you think you'd do if you saw yourself bursting into Gobber's workshop?" said Ragnar.

"I'd—I'd think I'd gone mad," said Hiccup, "or I'd think there was some Dark Magic going on—"

"_Exactly_! You wouldn't understand, you might even attack yourself! Don't you see? Phlegma told me what awful things have happened when Vikings have meddled with time… loads of them ended up killing their past or future selves by mistake!"

"Okay!" said Hiccup. "It was just an idea, I just thought—"

But then Ragnar nudged him, and pointed towards the mountain. Hiccup moved his head a few inched to get a clear view of the distant front door. Heyral, Fudge, the old Committee member, and Cutthroat the executioner were coming down the steps.

"Let's free Groundsplitter and get out of here," said Hiccup moving to the back of Gobber's workshop.

"No!" said Ragnar pulling him back. "If we steak him, now those Committee people will think Gobber set him free! We've got to wait until they've seen he's tied outside!"

"That's going to give us about sixty seconds," said Hiccup. This was starting to seem impossible.

"I never said it was going to be easy?" said Ragnar.

Hiccup groaned as Ragnar turned his attention to Gobber's workshop and frowned.

"Why aren't we leaving?" he said.

He then looked at the ground and picked up a stone, he then threw it and the stone hit right at the back of Hiccup's head.

Hiccup rubbed the back of his head remembering the pain. "That hurt you know."

"Sorry," said Hiccup apologetically. He then looked at the Gobber's workshop. "We should be coming out soon."

And sure enough, moments later, Gobber's back door opened, and Hiccup saw himself, Astrid and Ragnar walking out of it with Gobber. It was, without a doubt, the strangest sensation of his life standing behind a house, and watching himself.

"Get goin'," said Gobber looking at Hiccup, Astrid and Ragnar.

"Gobber, we can't—"

"We'll tell them what really happened—"

"They can't kill him—"

Hiccup watched the past Ragnar throw the Invisibility Cape over himself and Astrid.

"Go quick. Don' listen…"

There was a knock at the front of Gobber's workshop. The execution party had arrived. Gobber turned around and headed back into his workshop, leaving the back door ajar. Hiccup watched dust flying all around the workshop and heard three pairs of feet retreating. He, Astrid and Ragnar had gone… but the Hiccup and Ragnar hidden behind the house could see Gobber leading execution party inside and they could hear what was happening inside the workshop through the back door.

"Where is the beast?" came the cold voice of Cutthroat.

"Outside with Grumpy," Gobber growled.

Hiccup pulled his head out of sight as Cutthroat's face appeared at Gobber's window, staring out at Groundsplitter.

"I'd prefer with your dragon was with us," said Cutthroat. "Or he might free the dragon."

"Grumpy," said Gobber sounding amused. "He spends half the day asleep."

"It is true that Grump does take an afternoon nap at this time of day," said Heyral voice.

"Leave the dragon were it is," said Fudge's voice. "Let get down to the matter at hand. Now we—uh—have to read you the official notice of execution, it. Cutthroat, you're supposed to listen too, that's procedure—"

Cutthroat's face vanished from the window. It was now or never.

"Wait here," Hiccup whispered to Ragnar. "I'll do it."

As Fudge's voice started again, Hiccup darted out from behind the house and very quietly approached Groundsplitter.

"_It is the decision of the Committee of the Disposal of Dangerous Creatures that the Whispering Death Groundsplitter, hereafter called the condemned, shall be executed on the sixth of June at sundown—_"

Carefully, Hiccup raised his hand out to Groundsplitter. Groundsplitter than rest his snort in Hiccup's outstretched hand. Hiccup began to use his Fire Magic to cut through the chains attached to Groundsplitter.

"…_sentenced to execution by beheading, to be carried out by the Committee's appointed executioner, Cutthroat the Bloody…"_

"Come on, come on," Hiccup said franticly as he tried to cut through the chains like a blowtorch.

"…_as witnessed below_. Gobber, you sign here…"

Hiccup managed to cut through the first chain and began to work on the second chain.

"Well, let's get this over with," said the reedy voice of the Committee member from inside Gobber's workshop. "Gobber, perhaps it would be better if you stayed inside—"

"No, I wan' ter be with him—"

Footsteps echoed from within the workshop.

"Break already," said Hiccup desperately.

Hiccup was halfway through the second and last chain. He was almost there he just need a few more seconds. He stared at horror as the Gobber's back door began to open.

"One moment, please, Cutthroat," came Heyral's voice. "You need to sign, too." The footsteps stopped and the door swung back a bit. Hiccup did a silent prayer to Loki just as be cut through the last chain.

The moment he was free, Hiccup waved to Ragnar to come over. Once Ragnar approached they hopped onto Groundsplitter's back and flew down the cliff behind Gobber's workshop just as the door opened.

Hiccup and Ragnar pocked their heads over the cliff and looked at the backs of the Heyral, Gobber, Fudge, the old Committee member and Cutthroat. They just stared in silence.

"Where is it?" said the reedy voice of the Committer member. "Where is the beast?"

"It was tied here," said the executioner furiously. "I saw it! Just here!"

"How extraordinary," said Heyral. There was a note of amusement in his voice.

"Groundsplitter!" said Gobber huskily.

"Someone cut through the chains and looks like they were using Fire Magic," said Cutthroat examining the chain. "We should search the village, the farms, everywhere—"

"Cutthroat, if Groundsplitter has indeed been stolen, do you really think the thief will have led him away on foot?" said Heyral, still sounding amused. "Search the skies, search the beneath the ground itself. Meanwhile I could do with a mug of coffee. Or a large brandy, Gobber."

"O-o' course, sir," said Gobber, who still looked surprised but happy. "Come here Grumpy!"

Grump woke up and hobbled over to Gobber.

"Oh, and Cutthroat it would seem your services are no longer acquired, but thank you for your time," said Heyral before re-entering Gobber's workshop with Gobber and Grump close behind.

They then saw Cutthroat raise his axe and slammed it on the ground in anger.

That was all they need to see, so they too off, being very careful not to let anyone spot them.

"What now?" Hiccup asked.

"We'll have to wait in Raven's Point until they've gone back to the village. Then we wait until it's safe for another couple of hours…"

They flew over to Raven's Point and landed in the edge of the forest with a great view of the Whomping Willow. Darkness was now falling thickly around them as they wait in the thick tress of the forest.

"There's Astrid!" said Hiccup suddenly.

A dark figure was sprinting across the lawn and its shout echoed through the still night air.

"Get away from him—get away—Scabbers, come _here_—"

And then they saw two more figures materialise out of nowhere. Hiccup watched himself and Ragnar chasing after Astrid. Then he saw Astrid drive.

"_Gotcha!_ Get off, you blasted lizard—"

"There's Alvin!" said Hiccup. The great shape of the dog had bounded out from the roots of the Willow. They saw him bowl Hiccup over, then seized Astrid's leg…

"Looks even worse from here, doesn't it?" said Hiccup, watching the dog pulling Astrid into the roots. "Ouch—look, I just got walloped by the tree—and so did you—this is _weird_—"

The Whomping Willow was creaking and lashing out with its lower branches; they could see themselves darting here and there, trying to reach the trunk. And then the tree froze.

"That was Amber pressing the knot," said Ragnar.

"And there we go…" Hiccup muttered. "We're in."

The moment they disappeared, the tree began to move again. Seconds later, they heard footsteps quite close by. Heyral, Cutthroat, Fudge and the old Committee member were making their way up to the village.

"Right agter we'd gone down into the passage!" said Ragnar. "If _only_ Heyral had come with us…"

"Cutthroat and Fudge would've come too," said Hiccup bitterly. "I bet you anything Fudge would've told Cutthroat to murder Alvin on the spot…"

They watched the four men climb up the hill to Heyral's house and disappeared from view. For a few minutes the scene was deserted. Then—

"Here comes Johann!" said Hiccup, as they saw another figure sprinting down the stone steps and haring towards the Willow. Hiccup looked up at the sky. Clouds were obscuring the moon completely.

They watched Johann seize a broken branch from the ground and prod the knot on the trunk. The tree stopped fighting, and Johann, too, disappeared into the gap in its roots.

"If he'd only grabbed the Cape," said Hiccup. "It just lying there…"

He turned to Ragnar.

"Don't even think about," he said. "We can't be seen."

"How can you stand this?" he asked Ragnar fiercely. "Just standing here and watching it happen?"

"I can't," said Ragnar looking at Hiccup with a solemn expression.

Just then, they heard humming. It was Flora, making her way to the farms carrying a large watering can in her hands.

"_See?_" Ragnar whispered. "_See what would have happened?_ We've got to keep out of sight!"

Barely two mintues later, the mouantain doors opened yet again, and Grabbit had come charging out of them, running towards the Willow.

Hiccup's fists clenched as they watched Grabbit skid to a halt next to the tree, looking around. He grabbed the Cape and held it up.

"Do we have to watch this?" Hiccup asked resisting the eager to charge up and snatch the Cape from Grabbit's hands.

"I don't like it any more than you do," said Ragnar glaring at Grabbit. "But we have to keep watching."

Grabbit seized the branch Johann had used to freeze the tree, prodded the knot, and vanished from view as he put the Cape.

"So that's it," said Ragnar quietly. "We're all down there… and now we've just got to wait until we come back up again…"

Groundsplitter then lay down on the ground to curled up and fell asleep. Ragnar then looked at Hiccup with a curious look on his face.

"There's something I still don't get… why didn't the Dementors get Alvin? I remember them coming and then I think I passed out… there were so many of them…"

Hiccup looked at him. he explained what he'd seen; how, as the nearest Dementor had lowered its mouth to Hiccup's, a large silver something had come swooping down from the cliff and destroyed about half of the Dementors and forced the others to retreat.

Ragnar's mouth was slightly open by the time Hiccup had finished.

"But what was it?"

"There's only one thing it could have done that, the Blade of Midgard," said Hiccup. "And who ever casted it was powerful if they were able to create a guardian powerful enough to destroy fifty Dementors and forced the others to flee."

"Didn't you see what they looked like?" said Ragnar eagerly. "Was it one of the teachers?"

"No, I didn't get a good look," said Hiccup. "But my gut is telling me that it was someone very familiar."

"But… didn't the Guardian light him up? Couldn't you see—?"

"Rag, I nearly had the soul sucked out of him and like I said I didn't get a good look at him," said Hiccup thoughtfully.

"But… you have an idea who it was don't you," said Ragnar as if he could read his mind.

"You're going to think I'm crazy," said Hiccup. Ragnar crossed his arms wait for Hiccup answer. "I think it was my dad."

Hiccup glanced up at Ragnar and saw that he hadn't moved an inch. Instead he was studying him as if trying to tell if he was telling the truth or not.

"You're right… I don't think you're crazy," said Ragnar. "Hiccup your dad's—well—_dead_."

"I know that," said Hiccup quickly. "I just have this feeling… something in my gut is tell me that whoever it was has a connection to me… and I can't think of anyone else who'd apart from my mother would save me and Alvin."

He just stared at the Willow, thinking about his father, and about his four oldest friends… Moony, Wormtail, Padfoot, Forge and Fangs… Had all five of them been out on the island tonight? Wormtail had reappeared this evening when everyone had thought he was dead—was it so impossible his father had done the same? Had he been seeing things on the cliff? Was his gut making a fool of him?

The leaves overhead rustled faintly in the breeze. The moon drifted in and out of sight behind the shifting clouds. Ragnar sat with his face turned towards the Willow, waiting.

"You still haven't explained that gauntlet of yours," said Hiccup.

"Seriously, you ask that now as Alvin, the guy were trying to save is about to pop out of the willow in any moment," said Ragnar bewildered.

Hiccup just shrugged.

"Huh, it's just an idea that acme to my head," said Ragnar. "I thought to myself what would you do if your weapon was knocked out of your hand and then an idea for the gauntlet came to me."

Hiccup wanted to talk so more, but then after over an hour wait…

"Here we come!" said Ragnar.

He and Hiccup got to their feet. Groundsplitter raised his head, they had to hold him back to prevent him from join his old master. They saw Hiccup and Alvin holding Astrid under each arm clambering awkwardly out of the hole in the roots. Then came the unconscious Grabbit being lifted in the air by Grabbit. Next came Ragnar, who was Savage at sword point.

They paused for a moment and Hiccup, Ragnar and Alvin started out at the village.

Hiccup's heart was starting to beat very fast. He glanced up at the sky. Any moment now, that could was going to move aside and show the moon…

"Hiccup," Ragnar muttered, as though reminding his mind again, "we've got to stay put. We mustn't be seen. There's nothing we can do…"

"So we're just going to let Savage escape all over again…" said Hiccup quietly.

"Trust me, there's nothing I'd rather do than have that coward pay for what he's done, but how do you expect us to find a rat in the dark?" snapped Ragnar. "There's nothing we can do! We came back to help my father. We're supposed to be doing anything else!"

"_All right!"_

The moon slid out from behind its cloud. They saw the tiny figures looking towards it. Then they saw movement—

"There goes Johann," Ragnar whispered. "He's transforming—"

"Ragnar!" said Hiccup suddenly. "We've got to move!"

"Oh, for the love of Thor. Hiccup how many times do I have to tell you—"

"Not to interfere! But Johann's going to run into Raven's Point, right at us!"

Realisation dawned on Ragnar.

"Ah, good point," said Ragnar as he dashed over to Groundsplitter. "We'll have to fly straight over to Thor Beach, but we'll have to stay on the cliff so not to be seen."

Hiccup was fine with that, at least there was a chance he could see his father.

They climbed onto Groundsplitter and flew over towards Thor's Beach. As they flew Hiccup saw that the Dementors were heading towards them.

"Looks like it's show time," said Hiccup.

They soon landed on the cliff over Thor's Beach, the same cliff where Hiccup saw whoever sent that Guardian to save him.

They looked down from the cliff and saw the Dementors appearing from every direction, gliding over the lake surrounding himself, Ragnar and Alvin. Alvin and Ragnar were already on the ground out cold and Hiccup was creating silvery mist around, but it was extinguished.

"This horrible for a second time," Ragnar muttered.

"Don't worry, my dad will come," said Hiccup. "He'll create the Guardian."

But no one came. Hiccup saw that they were now surrounded by the Dementors. One of them was lowering its hood. It was time for the rescuer to appear—but no one was coming to help this time—

"I don't understand," said Hiccup blankly. "He should be appearing right there."

"Hiccup, I don't think anyone's coming," said Ragnar sadly.

And then it hit him—he understood. He hadn't seen his father—he had seen _himself_—

Hiccup walked towards the edge of the cliff and pulled his sword out.

"Hiccup? What are you doing?!" Ragnar yelled.

Hiccup didn't answer, but forced on the memory of his talk about living with Ragnar and Alvin. Then suddenly, out of his sword, not a shapeless cloud of mist, but a blinding, dazzling, silver animal. He screwed up his eyes, trying to see what it was. He could hardly believe his eyes, it was a Night Fury. It looked exactly like a Night Fury apart from the fact it was sliver instead of black. The sliver Night Fury dived down off the cliff and soared over the beach. He fired a silvery plasma blast that destroyed a group of Dementors. The Dementors began to fall back, scattering, retreating into the darkness as the sliver Night Fury continued to blast them… soon they were gone.

The Guardian turned. It was flying back towards Hiccup and Ragnar. Hiccup just stared at the dragon's large, silver eyes as its fangs retracting back into his gums. And Hiccup realised…

"_Fangs_," he whispered.

But as his trembling fingertips stretched towards the creature, it vanished.

"_What did you do?_" said Ragnar looking speechless.

"I think I just saved all our lives…" said Hiccup. "It wasn't my dad saw it was me, and my past self will think it was my dad."

"Talk about paradox," said Ragnar looking at Hiccup as if he'd fallen from the sky. "But that Guardian you created… I've never seen anything as powerful!"

"Well, I knew I could do it this time," said Hiccup rubbing the back of his head, "because I'd already done it… Does that make sense?"

"I don't know," said Ragnar. "After today I'm going to stop trying to figure out Time Magic, the more you think about the more it hurts your head. It looks like Grabbit's here."

Together they peered around over the cliff down at the beach. Grabbit had regained consciousness. He was conjuring stretchers and lifting the forms of Hiccup, Ragnar and Alvin onto them. A fourth stretcher, no doubt bearing Astrid, was already floating at his side. Then, axe held in front of him, he moved them away towards the village.

"Right, it's nearly time," said Ragnar tensely, looking at his watch. "We've got about forty-five minters until Heyral locks the door to the healing centre. We've got to rescue Alvin and get back into the ward before anyone realises we're missing…"

They waited, watching the moving clouds reflected in the lake. Groundsplitter was burrowing underground no doubt looking for food.

"D'you reckon he's up there yet?" said Hiccup, checking his watch.

"Look!" Ragnar whispered. "Who's that? Someone's flying over the lake."

Hiccup stared through the darkness. The man was riding a Monstrous Nightmare and seemed to be flying towards the mainland. Something strapped to his back was shinnying and glinting.

"Cutthroat!" said Hiccup. "The executioner! He's gone to get the Dementors! This is it, Rag—"

Ragnar put his hands on Grounsplitter's back and Hiccup gave him a leg up. Then he heaved himself onto the dragons back. Hiccup then grabbed hold onto Groundsplitter's spikes.

"Ready?" he whispered to Ragnar. "You'd better hold on—"

He nudged Groundsplitter's sides with his heel.

Groundsplitter soared straight into the dark air. Hiccup gripped his serpent like body with his knees, feeling the gust of wind from his wings behind them. Ragnar, too, was holding onto Groundsplitter's spikes firmly.

Hiccup urged Groundsplitter forwards. They were gliding quietly towards the plaza… Hiccup pulled Groundsplitter's head back a bit to slow him down. Hiccup was trying to find Flitwick's house. Then he found it, a charming little house overlooking the plaza.

"He's there!" Hiccup said, spotting Alvin as they rose up beside the houses top floor window. He reached out, and as Groundsplitter's winds fell, was able to tap sharply on the glass.

Alvin looked up. Hiccup saw his jaw drop as he looked at him, Ragnar and Groundsplitter. He leapt from his chair, hurried to the window and tried to open it, but it was locked.

"How do we get him out?" Hiccup asked.

Groundsplitter answered that question, he reared up and blasted the window with a ring of fire.

"Well, that one way to open a window," Ragnar muttered.

"How—_how_—?" said Alvin weakly, staring at Groundsplitter. "Johann said that Groundsplitter had been executed."

"It's a long story," said Hiccup, gripping Groundsplitter firmly to hold him steady. "There's not much time. You've got to get out of here—the Dementors are coming. Cutthroat's gone to get them."

Alvin placed a hand on either side of the window-frame and heaved his head and shoulders out of it. In seconds, he flung one leg over Groundsplitter's back, who was pleased to have his old master riding on him once more, and pulled himself behind Ragnar.

"Okay, Groundsplitter!" said Hiccup. "Down to the plaza—come on!"

Groundsplitter nodded and fly down to the plaza, lucky there was no one around to see them. Once Groundsplitter landed Hiccup and Ragnar slid off him at once.

"Alvin, you'd better go, quick," Hiccup panted. "They'll reach here any moment."

"What happen to your girlfriend? Astrid?" said Alvin urgently.

"She's not my girlfriend," said Hiccup blushing. "And she's fine—her leg is still being mended."

"You know, your parents would've liked that girl," said Alvin smirking. "She's a true Valkyrie that one. Ragnar, you remind me so much of your mother and you are defiantly the smarts Viking of your age. And Hiccup—you are truly your father's son…"

"Just go!" Hiccup and Ragnar shouted together.

Alvin nodded and looked down at Groundsplitter and patterned his head. "Let's go old friend."

Hiccup and Ragnar jumped back as the enormous dragon rose into the air once more… Groundsplitter and his rider became smaller and smaller as Hiccup gazed after them… then a cloud drifted across the moon… they were gone.

* * *

**I thought that a stag wouldn't fit Hiccup. You know the whole "you have a soul of a dragon" so I thought to use a dragon and a dragon that Hiccup was will connected with.**


	22. Terrible Terror Post Again

"Hiccup!"

Ragnar was tugging at his sleeve, staring at his watch. "We've got exactly ten minutes to get back to the healing centre without anybody seeing us—before Heyral locks the door—"

"Okay," said Hiccup, wrenching his gaze from the sky, "let's go…"

They ran down the path that led to the healing centre. It was hard to navigate the village at night, it all looked different. As they turned around a corner, they heard voices. It sounded like Fudge and Grabbit. They were walking down the path ahead of them, luckily with it being so dark they didn't see them, but any minute they'd be face to face. Hiccup quickly grabbed Ragnar and pulled him down under a nearby house.

"…only hope Heyral's not going to make difficulties," Grabbit was saying. "The Kiss will be performed immediately?"

"As soon as Cutthroat returns with the Dementors. This whole Alvin affair has been highly embarrassing. I can't tell you how much I'm looking forward to inform the _Daily Prophet_ that we've got him at last… I daresay they'll want to interview you, Grabbit… and once young Hiccup's back in his right mind, I expect he'll want to let the _Prophet_ exactly how you saved him…"

Hiccup clenched his teeth. He caught a glimpse of Grabbit's smirk as he and Fudge passed Hiccup and Ragnar's hiding place. Their footsteps died away. Hiccup and Ragnar waited a few minutes to make sure they'd really gone, then started to run towards the healing centre.

"Ragnar—what'll happen—if we don't get back inside—before Heyral locks the door?" Hiccup panted.

"I don't want to think about it!" Ragnar moaned, checking his watch again. "One minute!"

They turned around the next corner and saw the healing centre they saw that Gobber and Phlegma were standing outside and Heyral's head poking out of the door talking.

"I am going to lock you in," they heard him saying. "It is five minutes to midnight. Mr Keatson, three turns should do it. Good luck."

Then Gobber and Phlegma saw the two of them approach. Phlegma smiled, but Gobber looked baffled, he looked at them and then to the healing centre trying to figure out how they could be in two places at once. Heyral backed out of the room, closed the door and took out a key. Phlegma then tapped him on the shoulder and gestured to Hiccup and Ragnar. Heyral wide smile appeared under the long white silver moustache. "Well?" he said quietly.

"We did it!" said Hiccup breathlessly. "Alvin has gone, on Groundsplitter…"

"Wait, Alvin's escaped and Groundsplitter is with him," said Gobber looking even more confused. "And how can the two of ya be in two places at once?"

Phlegma placed a hand on his shoulder and dragged him away. "I'll explain it to you in the morning."

Heyral chuckled and then beamed at Hiccup and Ragnar.

"Well done. I think—" he listened intently for any sound within the healing centre. "Yes, I think you've gone, too. Get inside—I'll lock you in—"

Hiccup and Ragnar slipped back inside the healing centre, where a confused Astrid sat gazing at the spot where the past Hiccup and Ragnar had disappeared and then back to them.

"But—you were—how?!" Astrid demanded.

Hiccup and Ragnar looked at each other.

"You won't believe us if we told you," said Hiccup.

Astrid glared at them and crossed her arms. "Try me."

Ragnar had just tucked the Time-Turner back into his shirt when Flora had come down stairs.

"Did I hear the Headmaster leaving? Am I allowed to look after my patients?"

She was in a very bad mood. Hiccup and Ragnar decided to explain their time traveling advantage later. They walked back to their beds and accepted the chocolate that Flora gave them. Flora stood over them, making sure they ate it. But Hiccup could hardly swallow. He and Ragnar were waiting, listening, their nerves jangling… And then, as all three of them took a fourth piece of chocolate from Flora, they heard a distant roar of fury echoing outside.

"What was that?" said Flora in alarm.

Now they could hear angry voices, growing louder and louder. Flora was staring at the door.

"Really—they'll wake everybody up! What do they think they're doing?"

Hiccup was trying to hear the voices were saying. They were drawing nearer—

"He could have blasted the window and used Teleportation Magic, Grabbit, we should have left somebody in the room with him. When this gets out—"

"HE DIDN'T TELEPORT! Grabbit roared, now very close at hand. "YOU CAN'T USE TELEPORTATION MAGIC ON THE ISLAND! AND WE DISARMED HIM, ONLY SOME WITH FIRE MAGIC COULD HAVE—WAIT THIS IS HADDOCK'S DOING!"

"Grabbit—be reasonable—Hiccup has been locked up—"

BAM.

The door of the healing centre burst open.

Fudge, Grabbit, Phlegma, Gobber and Heyral came striding into the room. Heyral alone looked calm. Indeed, he looked as though he was quire enjoying himself. Fudge appeared angry. But Phlegma and Gobber were holding Grabbit, who was beside himself, back.

"OUT WITH IT, HADDOCK!" he bellowed trying to what looked like get his hands around Hiccup's throat. "WHAT DID YOU DO?"

"Grabbit!" shrieked Flora, helping Phlegma and Gobber with holding Grabbit back. "Control yourself!"

"See here, Grabbit, be reasonable," said Fudge. "This door's been locked, we just saw—"

"THEY HELPED HIM ESCAPE, I KNOW IT!" Grabbit howled, pointing at Hiccup, Astrid and Ragnar. His face was twisted, spit was flying from his mouth.

"Grabbit, Astrid is in no shape to walk let alone help Alvin to escape," said Phlegma.

"Clam yourself, man!" Fudge barked. "You're talking nonsense!"

"YOU DON'T KNOW HADDOCK!" shrieked Grabbit. "HE DID IT, I KNOW HE DID IT—"

"That will do, Grabbit," said Heyral quietly. "Think about what you are saying. This door has been locked since I left the healing centre ten minutes ago. Flora, have these students left their beds?"

"Of course not!" said Flora, bristling. "I've been with them ever since you left!"

"Well, there you have it, Grabbit," said Heyral calmly. "Unless you are suggesting that Hiccup and Ragnar are able to be in two places at once, or that Astrid is able to walk with a broken leg, I'm afraid I don't see any point in troubling them further."

"Besides, the scorch marks on the windows suggest a dragon," said Gobber. "And if I'd had to guess I'd say Alvin's old dragon Groundsplitter freed him."

"Then it must have been him who freed the Whispering Death," said Fudge.

"It would seem so, yes," said Heyral.

Grabbit stood there, seething, staring from Fudge, who looked thoroughly shocked at his behaviour, to Heyral, whose eyes were twinkling, to Phlegma, Gobber and Flora, who'd realised their grip around him. Grabbit whirled about, cape swishing behind him, and stormed out of the healing centre.

"Fellow seems quite unbalanced," said Fudge, staring after him. "I'd watch out for him, if I were you, Heyral."

"Oh, he's not unbalanced," said Heyral quietly. "He's just suffered a severe disappointment."

"He's not the only one!" puffed Fudge. "The _Daily Prophet's_ going to have a field day! We had Alvin cornered and he slipped through our fingers yet again and now he's reunited with his Whispering Death that was doing to executed on the same day! I'm going to be a laughing stock! Well… I'd better go and notify the Ministry…"

"And the Demntors?" said Heyral. "They'll be removed from the academy, I trust?"

"Oh, yes, they'll have to go," said Fudge, running his fingers distractedly through his hair. "Never dreamed they'd attempt to administer the Kiss on an innocent boy… completely out of control… No, I'll have them packed off back to Azkaban tonight. But we'll need something else to guard the island…"

"Oh, I think I can create some robot sentinels to guard the island," said Gobber eagerly. As he, Heyral, Phlegma and Fudge left the healing centre, Flora hurried to the door locked it again. Muttering angrily to herself, she headed back upstairs to her room.

Astrid in the meanwhile was glaring at Hiccup and Ragnar with a fixed expression. "Well… explain… now!"

Hiccup and Ragnar looked at each other.

"You explain," said Hiccup, helping himself to some more chocolate.

* * *

When Hiccup, Astrid and Ragnar left the healing centre at noon next day, it was to find almost deserted island. The sweltering heat and the end of the exams meant that everyone was taking full advantage of another Berksmeade visit. Neither Astrid nor Ragnar felt like going, however, so they and Hiccup wandered the village, still talking about the extraordinary events of the previous night and wondering where Alvin and Gorundsplitter were now. Sitting down on Thor's beach, watching Scauldrons reappear and disappear in the lake. Hiccup lost the thread of the conversation as he looked up at the cliff. The Night Fury had soared towards him from there just last night…

"Thought I'd might find ya three here," said a voice.

They looked around and saw Gobber hobbling his way towards them with a big smile on his face.

"I just want ter thank ya for save Alvin and Groundsplitter," said Gobber.

"It was no problem," said Ragnar.

"Easy for you to say," said Hiccup dryly.

"Yeah, well things are goin' ter be quiet with Johann gone—"

"What?" said Hiccup quickly.

"Oh, I guess yeh haven' heard?" said Gobber, his smiling fading a little. "Uh—Grabbit told all the Slytherins this mornin'… thought everyone'd know by now… Johann's packin' right now, o' course."

"He's _packing_?" said Hiccup, alarmed. "Why?"

"Leavin', isn' he?" said Gobber sadly. "Resigned firs' thing this mornin'. Says he can' risk it happenin' again."

Hiccup scrambled to his feet.

"I'm going to see him," he said to Astrid and Ragnar.

"But if he's resigned—"

"—doesn't sound like there's anything we can do—"

"I don't care. I still want to see him. I'll meet you back here."

* * *

Johann's front door was open. He had already packed most of his things. The Grindylow's empty tank stood next to his battered old trunk, which was open and nearly full. Johann was bending over on his desk, and only looked up when Hiccup knocked on the door.

"I saw you coming," said Johann, smiling. He pointed to the parchment he had been poring over. It was the Marauder's Map.

"I just saw Gobber," said Hiccup. "And he said you'd resigned. It's not true, is it?"

"I'm afraid it is," said Johann. He stared opening his desk drawers and taking out of contents.

"_Why?_" said Hiccup. "Then Ministry of Magic don't think you were helping Alvin, do they?"

Johann crossed to the door and closed it behind Hiccup.

"No. Heyral managed to convince Fudge that I was trying to save your lives." He sighed. "That was the final straw for Grabbit. I think the loss of the Order of Haddock hit him hard. So he—uh—_accidentally_ let slip that I am a werewolf this morning at breakfast."

"You're not leaving just because of that!" said Hiccup.

Johann smiled wryly.

"This time tomorrow, the Terrible Terrors will start arriving from parents—they will not want a werewolf teaching their children, Hiccup. And after last night, I see their point. I could have bitten any of you… that must never happen again."

"You're the best Combat Arts teacher we've ever had!" said Hiccup. "Don't go!"

Johann shook his head and didn't speak. He carried on emptying his drawers and packing his strange items. Then, while Hiccup was trying to think of a good argument to make him stay, Johann said, "From what the Headmaster, Gobber and Phlegma told me this morning, you saved a lot of lives last night, Hiccup. If I'm proud of anything, it's how much you've learned. Tell me about your Guardian."

"How d'you know about that?" said Hiccup, distracted.

"What else could have driven the Dementors back?"

Hiccup told Johann what happened. When he'd finished, Johann was smiling again.

"Yes, your father was always a dragon when he transformed," he said. "You guessed right, but he transform into a Night Fury, he turned into a Thunderdrum… that's why we called him Fangs, though Alvin thought we should have called him Bang… every time he opened his mouth we always have a ringing in our ears. But I think a little of yourself and your mother was also in that Guardian which can explain why it took that form."

Johann threw his last few books into his trunk, closed the desk drawers and turned to look at Hiccup.

"Here—I brought this from the Shrieking Shack last night," he said, handing Hiccup back the Invisibility Cape. "And…" he hesitated, then held the Marauder's Map, too. "I am no longer your teacher, so I don't feel guilty about giving you this back as well. It's no use to me, and I daresay you, Astrid and Ragnar will find uses for it."

Hiccup took the map and grinned.

"You told me Moony, Wormtail, Padfoot, Forge and Fangs would've wanted to lure me out of the academy… you said they'd have thought it was funny."

"And so we would have done," said Johann, now reaching down to close the trunk. "I have no hesitation in saying that Stoick would have been highly disappointed if his son had never found any of the secret passages out of the island. And you mother was always adventurous, I can't tell you the number of times we saw her sneak into Raven's Point to see wild dragons and wood-elves."

There was a knock on the door. Hiccup hastily stuffed the Marauder's Map and the Invisibility Cape into his vest pocket.

It was Heyral. He didn't look surprised to see Hiccup there.

"Your Thunderdrum, Thornado, and ship is ready, Johann," he said.

"Thank you, Headmaster."

Johann picked up his old trunk and the empty Grindylow tank."

"Well—goodbye, Hiccup," he said, smiling. "It has been a real pleasure teaching you. I feel sure we'll meet again sometime. Headmaster, there is no need to see me to the docks, I can manager…"

Hiccup had the impression that Johann wanted to leave as quickly as possible.

"Goodbye, then, Johann," said Heyral soberly. Johann shifted the Grindylow tank slightly so that he and Heyral could shake hands. Then, with a final nod to Hiccup, and a swift smile, Johann left the house.

Hiccup sat down in his vacated chair, staring glumly at the floor. He heard the door close and looked up. Heyral was still there.

"Why so miserable, Hiccup?" he said quietly. "You should be very proud of yourself after last night."

"It didn't make any difference," said Hiccup bitterly. "Savage got away."

"Didn't make any difference?" said Heyral quietly. "It made all the difference in the world, Hiccup. You helped uncover the truth. You saved an innocent man from a terrible fate and passed the first test of many."

On those words with remembered what Gothi had said to me about last night bring his first trial and her prediction.

"Uh, sir—did—did Gothi tell you about—"

"He prediction yesterday," Heyral finished. "Yes, she informed me and that bring her total of real predictions to two. I should offer her a pay rise…"

"But—" Hiccup looked at him, aghast. How could Heyral take this so calmly?

"But—I stopped Alvin and Johann killing Savage! That makes it my fault, if Drago Bludvist comes back!"

"It does not," said Heyral quietly. "Hasn't you experience with the Time-Turner taught you anything, Hiccup? The consequences of our actions are always so complicated, so diverse, that predicting the future is very difficult business indeed… the wood-elves and Gothi all have that problem. You did a very noble thing, in saving Savage's life."

"But if he helps bring Drago Bludvist back to power—!"

"Savage owes his life to you. You have sent Drago a deputy who is in your debt. When one Viking saves another Viking's life, it creates a certain bond between them… and I'm much mistaken if Drago wants his servant in the debt of Hiccup Haddock."

"I don't want a bond with Savage!" said Hiccup. "He betrayed my parents!"

"This is magic at its deepest, its most impenetrable, Hiccup. But trust me… the time may come when you will be very glad you saved Savage's life."

Hiccup couldn't imagine when that would be. Heyral looked as though he knew what Hiccup was thinking.

"I knew your father and mother very well, both at Berk and later, Hiccup," he said gently. "They would have saved Savage too, I am sure of it."

Hiccup looked up at him. Heyral wouldn't laugh—he could tell Heyral…

"Last night… I thought it was my dad who'd conjured my Guardian. I mean, when I saw myself on the cliff… I didn't get a good look… but my gut told me that it was him."

"Understandable," said Heyral softly. "You just want to meet your father in person and there's nothing silly about that… while you may look like your mother and have her genital personality… you have your father's eyes and if I might add his stubbornness."

Hiccup shook his head.

"It was stupid, thinking it was him," he muttered. "I mean, I knew he was dead."

"You think the dead we have loved ever truly leave us? You think we don't recall them more clearly than ever in times of great trouble? Your father and mother are alive in you, Hiccup, and shows themselves most plainly when you have need of them. How else could you produce that _particular_ Guardian? Fangs soared in the skies again last night alone with your mother."

It took a moment for Hiccup to realise what Heyral had said.

"Alvin told me all about how they became Animagi last night," said Heyral, smiling. "An extraordinary achievement—not least, keeping it quite from me. And then I remembered the most unusual form your Guardian took, when it charged Mr Jorgenson down at your Dragon Racing match against Ravenclaw. So you did see your father last night along with your mother… you found them inside yourself."

And Heyral left the house, leaving Hiccup to his very confused thoughts.

* * *

Nobody at Berk knew the truth of what happened the night that Alvin, Groundsplitter and Savage vanished except Hiccup, Astrid, Ragnar, Gobber, Phlegma and Heyral. As the end of term approached, Hiccup heard many different theories about what had really happened, but none of them came close to the truth.

Snotlout was furious about Groundsplitter. He wouldn't believe that Alvin freed him and was convinced that Gobber had found a way of smuggling the Whispering Death to safety, and seemed outraged that he and his father had been outwitted by a Forge Master. Sven Hofferson, meanwhile, had much to say on the subject of Alvin's escape.

"If I manage to get into the Ministry, I'll have a lot of proposals to make about the Magical Law Enforcement!" he told the only person who would listen—his girlfriend, Clearwater.

Though the weather was perfect, though the atmosphere was so cheerful, though he knew they had achieved the near impossible in helping Alvin to freedom, Hiccup had never approached the end of an academy year in worse spirts.

He certainly wasn't the only one who was sorry to see Johann go. The whole of Hiccup's Combat Arts class were miserable about his resignation.

"Wonder what they'll give us next year?" said Wartihog gloomily.

"Maybe a dark-elf," suggested Tuffnut hopefully.

"Or an orc?" said Ruffnut eagerly.

It wasn't only Johann's departure that was weighing on Hiccup's mind. He couldn't help thinking a lot about Gothi's prediction. He kept wondering where Savage was now, whether he had sought sanctuary with Drago yet. But the thing that was lowering Hiccup's spirts most of all was the prospect of returning to the Dalssons. For maybe half an hour, a glorious half-hour, he had believed he would be living with Ragnar and his parents from now on… it would have been the next best thing to having his own family back. And while no news of Alvin was definitely good news, because it meant he had successfully gone into hiding, Hiccup couldn't help feeling miserable when he thought of the home he might have had, and the fact that it was no impossible.

The exam results came out on the last day of term. Hiccup, Astrid and Ragnar had passed every subject. Hiccup was amazed that he had got through Potions. He had a shrewd suspicion that Heyral had stepped in to stop Grabbit failing him on purpose. Grabbit's behaviour towards Hiccup over the past week had been quite alarming. Hiccup wouldn't have thought it possible that Grabbit's dislike for him could increase, but it certainly had done. Also his dislike for Ragnar had also increased dramatically. A muscle twitched unpleasantly at the corner of Grabbit's thin mouth every time he looked at Hiccup and Ragnar, and he was constantly flexing his fingers, as though itching to place them around Hiccup's throat.

Sven had got his top-grade NEVTs and his new title "the Strict"; Double and Trouble had scraped a handful of OVLs each. Gryffindor house, meanwhile, largely thanks to their spectacular performance in the Dragon Racing Cup, had won the House Championship for the third year running. This meant that the end-of-term feast took place amid decorations of scarlet and gold, and that the Gryffindor table was the noisiest of the lot, as everybody celebrated. Even Hiccup managed to forget about the journey back to the Dalssons next day as he ate, drank, talked and laughed with the rest.

* * *

As the Berk Express pulled out of the station next morning, Ragnar gave Hiccup and Astrid some surprising news.

"I went to see Phlegma this morning, just before breakfast. I've decided to drop Muggle Studies."

"But you passed your exam with three hundred and twenty percent!" said Astrid.

"I know," sighed Ragnar, "but I can't stand another year like this one. That Time-Turner, it was driving me mad. I've handed it in. Without Muggle Studies and Soothsaying, I'll be able to have a normal timetable again."

"I still can't _believe_ you didn't tell us about it," said Astrid grumpily. "We're supposed to be your _friends_."

"I promised I wouldn't tell _anyone_," said Ragnar severely. He looked at Hiccup, who was watching Berk disappear from view behind a mountain. Two whole months before he'd see it again…"

"Oh, cheer up, Hiccup!" said Ragnar sadly. "If it's any contribution I'm bummed that you won't he living with me as well."

"Yeah, but you don't have to spend the holidays with the Dalssons," said Hiccup.

"You could come and stay with us," Astrid suggested. "I'll fix it up with Mum and Dad, then I'll call you. I know how to use a fellytone now—"

"A _telephone_, Astrid," said Ragnar. "Maybe _you_ should take Muggle Studies next year…"

Astrid ignored him.

"It's the Dragon Racing World Cup this summer! How about it, Hiccup? Come and stay, and we'll go and see it! Dad can usually get tickets from work."

This proposal had the effect of cheering Hiccup up a great deal.

"Yeah… I bet the Dalssons'd be pleased to let me come… especially after what I did to Aunt Helga…"

Feeling considerably more cheerful, Hiccup joined Astrid and Ragnar in several games of Exploding Snap, and when the Valkyrie with the tea trolley arrived, he bought himself a very large lunch, though nothing with chocolate in it.

But it was late in the afternoon before the thing that made him truly happy turned up…

"Hiccup," said Ragnar suddenly, peering over his shoulder. "What's that thing outside your window?"

Hiccup turned to look outside. He was an aqua blue Terrible Terror with a letter tired around its leg. Hiccup quickly pulled down the window, stretched out his arm and it landed on his arm. He brought inside. Hiccup then removed the letter from its leg and joined with Sharpshot and Amber, both of them looking at the new comer curiously.

Hiccup looked at the letter and saw it was addressed to him and Ragnar. He ripped open the letter and shouted, "It's from Alvin!"

"What?" said Astrid and Ragnar excitedly. "Read it aloud!"

_Dear Hiccup and Ragnar,_

_I hope this finds you two before Hiccup reaches his aunt and uncle. I don't know whether they're used to Terrible Terror post._

_Groundsplitter and I are in hiding. I won't tell you where, in case this falls into the wrong hands. I have some doubt about the Terrible Terror reliability, but he is the best I could find, and he did seem eager for the job._

_I believe the Dementors are still searching for me, but they haven't a hope of finding me here. I am planning to allow some Muggles to glimpse me soon, a long way from Berk, so that the security on the island will be lifted._

_There is something I never got around to tell you two during our brief meeting. I was I who sent sent the forge kit and the Firebolt—_

"Ha!" said Ragnar triumphantly. "See! I _told _you it was from him!"

"Yes, but he hadn't bewitched it, had he?" said Astrid as the aqua blue Terribel Terror snuggled up to her in an affectionate way.

_Amber took the orders to the Terrible Terror Office for me. I used both your name but told them to take the gold from Gringotts vault number seven hundred and eleven—my own. Please consider them as thirteen birthdays' worth of presents from your father and godfather._

_I would also like to apologise for the fright I think I gave you two and Freida. I had only hoped to get a glimpse of the three of you before starting my journey north, but I think the sight of me alarmed you._

_I am enclosing something else for you Hiccup, which I think will make your next year at Berk more enjoyable._

_If ever you two need me, send word. Your Terrible Terrors will find me._

_I'll write again soon._

_Alvin_

Hiccup looked eagerly inside the envelope. There was another piece of parchment in there. He read it through quickly and felt suddenly as warm and contented as though he'd swallowed a bottle of hot Butterbeer in one go.

_I, Alvin the Trusting, Hiccup Haddock's godfather, hereby give him permission to visit Berksmeade at weekends._

"That'll be good enough for Phlegma!" said Hiccup happily. He looked back at Alvin's letter.

"Hang on, there's a PS…"

_I though your friend Astrid might like to keep this Terrible Terror, as it's my fault she no longer has a rat._

Astrid's eyes widened. The Terrible Terror purred loudly in her lap.

"Keep him?" she said uncertainly. She looked closely at the Terrible Terror for a moment, then, to Hiccup and Ragnar's great surprise, she held him out for Amber to sniff.

"What d'you reckon?" Astrid asked the Terrible Terror. "Definitely a Terrible Terror?"

Amber purred.

"That's good enough for me," said Astrid happily. "He's mine."

Hiccup read and re-read the letter from Alvin all the way back into King's Cross Station. It was still clutched tightly in his hand as he, Astrid and Ragnar stepped back through the barrier of platform nine and three-quarters. Hiccup spotted Uncle Magnus at once. He was standing a good distance from Mr and Miss Hofferson and Miss Keatson, eyeing them suspiciously, and when Mrs Hofferson hugged Hiccup in greeting, his worst suspicions about them seemed confirmed.

"I've got a lot to tell you, Mum," said Ragnar and Hiccup handed him Alvin's letter.

"See you soon, brother," Hiccup whispered and Ragnar smiled cheerfully.

"I'll call about the World Cup!" Astrid yelled after Hiccup, as Hiccup bid her and Ragnar goodbye, then wheeled the trolley bearing his trunk and Sharpshot's cage towards Uncle Magnus, who greeted him in usual fashion.

"What's that?" he snarled, staring at the piece of parchment in his hand. "If it's another form for me to sign, you've got another—"

"Oh, you don't have to worry about that," said Hiccup cheerfully. "My godfather can handle that stuff now!"

"Godfather?" spluttered Uncle Magnus. "You haven't got a godfather!"

"Yes, I have," said Hiccup brightly. "He was my mum and dad's best friend and he's also the dad of one of my best friends. He's a convicted murderer, but he's broken out of Viking prison and he's on the run. He likes to keep in touch with me, though… keep up with my news… check I'm happy…"

And grinned broadly at the look of horror on Uncle Magnus's face, Hiccup set off towards the station exit, Sharpshot rattling along in front of him, for what looked like a much better summer than the last.


End file.
